THE  HESSIAN  TROOPERS  DRIVEN   FORTH 


O*G 


ORANGE   AND    GREEN 


A  TALE  OF  THE  BOYNE  AND 
LIMERICK 


BY 

G.   A.    HENTY 

!        AUTHOR  OF  "WITH  LEE  IN  VIRGINIA,"  "WITH  CLIVE  Iff  INDIA," 
"IN  FREEDOM'S  CAUSE,"  "THE  LION  OF  THE 
NORTH,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
THE   MERSHON  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


PREFACE. 


MY  DEAR  LADS:  The  subject  of  Ireland  is  one  which 
has  for  some  years  been  a  very  prominent  one,  and  is 
likely,  I  fear,  for  some  time  yet  to  occupy  a  large  share  of 
public  attention.  For  many  years  the  laws  in  Ireland 
and  the  rights  of  Irishmen  have  been  identical  with  those 
which  we  enjoy  in  England.  The  discontent  manifested 
in  the  troubles  of  recent  years  has  had  its  root  in  an 
older  sense  of  grievance,  for  which  there  was,  unhappily, 
only  too  abundant  reason.  The  great  proportion  of  the 
soil  of  Ireland  was  taken  from  the  original  owners  and 
handed  over  to  Cromwell's  followers,  and  lor  years  the 
land  that  still  remained  in  the  hands  of  Irishmen  was 
subject  to  the  covetousness  of  a  party  of  greedy  in- 
triguers, who  had  sufficient  influence  to  sway  the  pro- 
ceedings of  government.  The  result  was  the  rising  of 
Ireland,  nominally  in  defense  of  the  rights  of  King 
James,  but  really  an  effort  of  despair  on  the  part  of  those 
who  deemed  their  religion,  their  property,  and  even  their 
lives  threatened  by  this  absolute  ascendency  of  the  Prot- 
estant party  in  the  government  of  the  country.  I  have 
drawn  my  information  from  a  variety  of  sources;  but  as  I 
wished  you  to  see  the  matter  from  the  Irish  point  of  view 
I  have  drawn  most  largely  from  the  history  of  those 
events  by  Mr.  O'Driscol,  published  sixty  years  ago. 
There  is,  however,  but  little  difference  of  opinion  be- 
tween Irish  and  English  authors  as  to  the  general  course 
of  the  war,  or  as  to  the  atrocious  conduct  of  William's 
army  of  foreign  mercenaries  toward  the  people  of  Ireland. 

Your  sincerely, 

G.  A.  HENTY. 


CONTENTS. 


.  CHAPTER  I.  FAQH 

A  Shipwreck 1 

CHAPTER  II. 
For  James  or  William 83 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  King  in  Ireland 83 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Siege  of  Derry 63 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Relief  of  Derry 72 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Dundalk 98 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  Coming  Battle 108 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Boyne  Water 136 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Pleasant  Quarters. 146 

CHAPTER  X. 
A  Cavalry  Raid 185 

CHAPTER  XL 
The  First  Siege  of  Limerick 183 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Winter  Quarters 200 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
A  Dangerous  Mission 914 


vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XIV.  PAOB 

Athlone 237 

CHAPTER  XV. 
A  Fortunate  Recognition 263 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Peace  .,  .285 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A   SHIPWRECK. 

A  FEW  miles  to  the  south  of  Bray  Head,  on  the  crest 
of  a  hill  falling  sharply  down  to  the  sea,  stood  Castle 
Davenant,  a  conspicuous  landmark  to  mariners  skirting 
the  coast  on  their  way  from  Cork  or  Waterf ord  to  Dublin 
Bay.  Castle  Davenant  it  was  called,  although  it  had 
long  since  cased  to  be  defensible;  but  when  it  was  built 
by  Sir  Godfrey  Davenant,  who  came  over  with  Strongbow, 
it  was  a  place  of  strength.  Strongbow's  followers  did  well 
for  themselves.  They  had  reckoned  on  hard  fighting, 
but  the  Irish  were  too  much  divided  among  themselves 
to  oppose  any  serious  resistance  to  the  invaders.  Strong- 
bow  had  married  the  daughter  of  Dermid,  Prince  of 
Leinster,  and  at  the  death  of  that  prince  succeeded  him, 
and  the  greater  portion  of  Leir.ster  was  soon  divided 
among  the  knights  and  men-at-arms  who  had  followed 
his  standard.  Godfrey  Davenant,  who  was  a  favorite  of 
the  earl,  had  no  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  his  share, 
which  consisted  of  a  domain  including  many  square 
miles  of  fertile  land  stretching  back  from  the  seacoast. 

Here  for  many  generations  his  descendants  lived,  for 
the  most  part  taking  an  active  share  in  the  wars  and  dis- 
turbances which,  with  scarcely  an  interval  of  rest, 
agitated  the  country.  The  castle  had  continued  to  de- 
serve its  name  until  forty  years  before  the  time  this  story 


8  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

commences,  when  Cromwell's  gunners  had  battered  a 
breach  in  it  and  left  it  a  heap  of  smoking  ruins.  Walter 
Davenant  had  died,  fighting  to  the  last,  in  his  own  hall. 
At  that  time  the  greater  part  of  his  estate  was  bestowed 
upon  officers  and  soldiers  in  Cromwell's  army,  among 
whom  no  less  than  four  million  acres  of  Irish  land  were 
divided. 

Had  it  not  been  that  Walter  Davenant's  widow  was  an 
Englishwoman  and  a  relation  of  General  Ireton,  the 
whole  of  the  estate  would  have  gone;  but  his  influence 
was  sufficient  to  secure  for  her  the  possession  of  the  ruins 
of  her  home  and  a  few  hundred  acres  surrounding  it. 
Fortunately  the  dowry  which  Mrs.  Davenant  had  brought 
her  husband  was  untouched,  and  a  new  house  was  reared 
within  the  ruins  of  the  castle,  the  new  work  being  dove- 
tailed with  the  old. 

The  family  now  consisted  of  Mrs.  Davenant,  a  lady 
sixty-eight  years  old;  her  son  Fergus,  who  was  when 
Cromwell  devastated  the  land  a  child  of  five  years;  his 
wife  Katherine,  daughter  of  Lawrence  McCarthy,  a  large 
land-owner  near  Cork;  and  their  two  sons,  Walter,  a  lad 
of  sixteen,  and  Godfrey,  twelve  years  old. 

Two  miles  west  of  the  castle  stood  a  square-built  stone 
house,  surrounded  by  solidly  constructed  barns  and  out- 
buildings. This  was  the  abode  of  old  Zephaniah  White- 
foot,  the  man  upon  whom  had  been  bestowed  the  broad 
lands  of  Walter  Davenant.  Zephaniah  had  fought  stoutly 
as  lieutenant  in  one  of  Cromwell's  regiments  of  horse, 
and  had  always  considered  himself  an  ill-treated  man, 
because  although  he  had  obtained  all  the  most  fertile  por- 
tion of  the  Davenant  estate,  the  old  family  were  per- 
mitted to  retain  the  castle  and  a  few  hundred  acres  by 
the  sea. 

He  was  one  of  those  who  contended  that  the  Amalekites 
ehould  be  utterly  destroyed  by  the  sword,  and  he  consid- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  5 

"You  are  less  than  a  man,  Jabez,"  she  would  say  to 
him  indignantly,  "to  put  up  at  your  age  with  being 
lectured  as  if  you  were  a  child.  Parental  obedience  is  all 
very  well,  and  I  hope  I  was  always  obedient  to  my  father; 
ttut  when  it  comes  to  a  body  not  being  permitted  to  have 
a  soul  of  his  own  it  is  going  too  far.  If  you  had  told  me 
that,  when  I  became  your  wife,  I  was  to  become  the  in- 
mate of  a  dungeon  for  the  rest  of  my  existence,  I 
wouldn't  have  had  you,  not  if  you  had  been  master  of  all 
the  broad  lands  of  Leinster." 

But  though  unable  to  rouse  her  husband  into  making 
an  effort  for  some  sort  of  freedom,  Hannah  Whitefoot 
had  battled  more  successfully  in  behalf  of  her  son  John. 

"You  have  had  the  management  of  your  son,  sir,  and 
I  will  manage  mine,"  she  said.  "I  will  see  that  he  does 
not  grow  up  a  reprobate  or  a  Papist,  but  at  least  he  shall 
grow  up  a  man,  and  his  life  shall  not  be  as  hateful  as 
mine  is  if  I  can  help  it." 

Many  battles  had  already  been  fought  on  this  point, 
but  in  the  end  Hannah  Whitefoot  triumphed.  Although 
her  husband  never  himself  opposed  his  father's  authority, 
he  refused  absolutely  to  use  his  own  to  compel  his  wife 
to  submission. 

"You  know,  sir,"  he  said,  "you  had  your  own  way 
with  my  mother  and  me,  and  I  say  nothing  for  or  against 
it.  Hannah  has  other  ideas.  No  one  can  say  that  she  is 
not  a  good  woman,  or  that  she  fails  in  her  duty  to  me. 
All  people  do  not  see  life  from  the  same  point  of  view. 
She  is  just  as  conscientious  in  her  way  as  you  are  in  yours; 
she  reads  her  Bible  and  draws  her  own  conclusions  from 
it  just  as  you  do;  and  as  she  is  the  mother  of  the  child, 
and  as  I  know  she  will  do  her  best  for  it,  I  shall  not  in- 
terfere with  her  way  of  doing  it." 

And  so  Hannah  won  at  last,  and  although  according  to 
modern  ideas  the  boy's  training  would  have  been  consid- 


e  ORAN&E  AND  GRSEJT. 

ered  strict  in  the  extreme,  it  differed  very  widely  from 
that  which  his  father  had  had  before  him.  Sounds  of 
laughter  such  as  never  had  been  heard  within  the  walls 
of  the  house  since  Zephaniah  laid  stone  upon  stone  some- 
times issued  from  the  room  where  Hannah  and  the  child 
were  together  alone,  and  Zephaniah  was  out  with  Jabez 
about  the  farm;  and  Hannah  herself  benefited  as  much 
as  did  the  child  by  her  rebellion  against  the  authorities. 
Jabez,  too,  was  conscious  that  home  was  brighter  and 
pleasanter  than  it  had  been,  and  when  Zephaniah  burst 
into  a  torrent  of  indignation  when  he  discovered  that  the 
child  had  absolutely  heard  some  fairy  stories  from  its 
mother,  Jabez  said  quietly: 

"Father,  I  wish  no  dispute.  I  have  been  an  obedient 
eon  to  you,  and  will  continue  so  to  my  life's  end:  but  if 
you  are  not  satisfied  with  the  doings  of  my  wife,  I  will 
depart  with  her.  There  are  plenty  who  will  be  glad  to 
let  me  a  piece  of  land;  and  if  I  only  work  there  as  hard 
as  I  work  here,  I  shall  assuredly  be  able  to  support  her 
and  my  boy.  So  let  this  be  the  last  word  between  us." 

This  threat  put  an  end  to  the  struggle.  Zephaniah 
had,  like  most  of  his  class,  a  keen  eye  to  the  main  chance, 
and  could  ill  spare  the  services  of  Jabez  and  his  thrifty 
and  hard-working  wife,  and  henceforth,  except  by 
pointed  references  in  the  lengthy  morning  and  evening 
prayers  to  the  backsliding  in  his  household,  he  held  his 
peace. 

Between  the  Castle  and  Zephaniah  Whitefoot  there 
had  never  been  any  intercourse.  The  dowager  Mrs. 
Davenant  hated  the  Cromwellite  occupier  of  her  estate, 
not  only  as  a  usurper  but  as  the  representative  of  the 
man  who  had  slain  her  husband.  She  never  alluded  to 
his  existence,  and  had  always  contrived  in  her  rides  and 
walks  to  avoid  any  point  from  which  she  could  obtain  so 
much  as  a  distant  view  of  the  square,  ugly  house  which 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  7 

formed  a  blot  on  the  fair  landscape.  She  still  spoke  of 
the  estate  as  if  it  extended  to  its  original  boundaries,  and 
ignored  absolutely  the  very  existence  of  Zephaniah  White- 
foot  and  all  that  belonged  to  him.  But  when  her  son 
and  Jabez  grew  to  man's  estate,  at  about  the  same  period, 
they  necessarily  at  times  crossed  each  other's  paths;  and 
as  in  them  the  prejudices  and  enmities  of  their  elders 
were  somewhat  softened,  they  would,  when  they  met  on 
the  road,  exchange  a  passing  nod  or  a  brief  "Good-morn- 
ing." 

Another  generation  still,  and  the  boys  of  the  two 
houses  met  as  friends.  Thanks  to  his  mother's  success- 
ful rebellion,  John  Whitefoot  grew  up  a  hearty,  healthy 
boy,  with  a  bright  eye,  a  merry  laugh,  and  a  frank,  open 
bearing. 

''One  would  think,"  his  grandfather  remarked  angrily 
one  day,  as  the  boy  went  out  whistling  gayly  to  fetch  in 
a  young  colt  Jabez  was  about  to  break,  "that  John  was 
the  son  of  a  malignant,  or  one  of  the  men  of  Charles 
Stuart,  rather  than  of  a  God-fearing  tiller  of  the  soil." 

"So  long  as  he  fears  God,  and  walks  in  the  right  way, 
he  is  none  the  worse  for  that,  father,"  Jabez  said  stoutly; 
"and  even  you  would  hardly  say  that  his  mother  has 
failed  in  her  teachings  in  that  respect.  I  do  not  know 
that  so  long  as  one  has  the  words  of  Scripture  in  his  heart, 
he  is  any  the  better  for  having  them  always  on  his  lips; 
in  other  respects  I  regret  not  that  the  boy  should  have  a 
spirit  and  a  fire  which  I  know  I  lack  myself.  Who  can 
say  what  may  yet  take  place  here!  The  Stuarts  are  again 
upon  the  throne,  and,  with  James'  leaning  toward  Papacy, 
there  is  no  saying  whether  some  day  all  the  lands  which 
Cromwell  divided  among  his  soldiers  may  not  be  restored 
to  their  original  possessors,  and  in  that  case  our  sons  may 
have  to  make  their  way  in  other  paths  of  life  than  ours; 
and  if  it  be  so,  John  will  assuredly  be  more  likely  to 
make  his  way  than  I  should  have  done." 


g  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"We  would  never  surrender,  save  with  our  lives,  what 
our  swords  have  won.  We  will  hold  the  inheritance 
which  the  Lord  has  given  us, "'the  old  man  said  fiercely. 

"Yes,  father;  and  so  said  those  whose  lands  we  have 
inherited;  so  said  Walter  Davenant,  of  whose  lands  we 
are  possessed.  It  will  be  as  God  wills  it.  He  has  given 
to  us  the  lands  of  others,  and  it  may  be  that  he  will  take 
them  away  again.  The  times  have  changed,  father,  and 
the  manners;  and  I  am  well  pleased  to  see  that  John, 
while  I  am  sure  he  is  as  true  to  the  faith  as  I  am  myself, 
will  take  broader  and,  perhaps,  happier  views  of  life  than 
I  have  done." 

Zephaniah  gave  a  snort  of  displeasure.  He  grieved 
continually  at  the  influence  which  his  daughter-in-law 
exercised  over  her  son,  and  which  now  extended  clearly 
to  her  husband;  but  Jabez  was  now  a  man  of  forty-five, 
and  had  lately  shown  that,  in  some  respects  at  least,  he 
intended  to  have  his  way,  while  Zephaniah  himself, 
though  still  erect  and  strong,  was  well-nigh  eighty. 

"Remember,  Jabez,"  he  said,  "that  it  goes  hard  with 
those  who,  having  set  their  hands  to  the  plow,  turn 
aside." 

"I  shall  not  turn  aside,  father,"  Jabez  said  quietly.  "I 
have  gone  too  long  along  a  straight  furrow  to  change 
now;  but  I  am  not  ill  pleased  that  my  son  should  have  a 
wider  scope.  I  trust  and  believe  that  he  will  drive  his 
furrow  as  straight  as  we  have  done,  although  it  may  not 
be  exactly  in  the  same  line." 

But  neither  Zephaniah  nor  old  Mrs.  Davenant  knew 
that  their  respective  grandsons  had  made  friends,  al- 
though both  the  boys'  fathers  knew  and  approved  of  it, 
although  for  somewhat  different  reasons. 

"The  Whitefoot  boy,"  Mr.  Davenant  had  said  to  his 
wife,  "is,  I  fancy  from  what  I  have  seen  of  him,  of  a  dif- 
ferent type  to  his  father  and  grandfather.  I  met  him 


ORANGE  AND  QREEN.  9 

the  other  day  when  I  was  out,  and  he  spoke  as  naturally 
and  outspokenly  as  Walter  himself.  He  seems  to  have 
got  rid  of  the  Puritanical  twang  altogether.  At  any  rate 
he  will  do  Walter  no  harm;  and,  indeed,  I  should  say 
that  there  was  a  solid  good  sense  about  him  which  will  do 
Master  Walter,  who  is  somewhat  disposed  to  be  a  mad- 
cap, much  good.  Anyhow  he  is  a  better  companion  for 
the  boy  than  the  lads  down  in  the  village;  and  there  is 
no  saying,  wife,  how  matters  may  go  in  this  unhappy 
country.  It  may  be  that  we  may  come  to  our  own  again; 
it  may  be  that  we  may  lose  what  is  left  to  us.  Anyhow, 
it  can  do  no  harm  to  Walter  that  he  should  have  as  a 
friend  one  in  the  opposite  camp." 

Somewhat  similar  was  the  talk  between  Hannah  and 
Jabez,  although  in  their  case  the  wife  was  the  speaker. 

"John  has  told  me,  Jabez,  that  he  has  several  times 
met  young  Davenant,  and  that  the  boy  is  disposed  to  be 
friendly  with  him;  and  he  has  asked  me  to  speak  with 
you,  to  know  whether  you  have  any  objection  to  his  mak- 
ing a  friend  of  him." 

"What  do  you  say,  Hannah?"  Jabez  asked  cautiously. 
"My  father,  I  fear,  would  not  approve  of  it." 

"Your  father  need  know  nothing  about  it,  Jabez.  He 
is  an  old  man  and  a  good  man,  but  he  clings  to  the  ways 
of  his  youth,  and  deems  that  things  are  still  as  they  were 
when  he  rode  behind  Cromwell.  I  would  not  deceive 
him  did  he  ask;  but  I  do  not  see  that  the  matter  need  be 
mentioned  in  his  presence.  It  seems  to  me  that  it  will 
be  good  for  John  to  be  friends  with  this  boy.  He  is 
almost  without  companionship;  we  have  acquaintance,  it 
is  true,  among  the  other  settlers  of  our  faith,  but  such 
companionship  as  he  has  there  will  not  open  his  mind  or 
broaden  his  views.  We  are  dull  people  here  for  a  lad. 
Had  we  had  other  children  it  might  have  been  different. 

"I  have  heard  my  mother  speak  of  her  life  as  a  girl  in 


10  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

England,  and  assuredly  it  was  brighter  and  more  varied 
than  ours;  and  it  seems  not  to  me  that  the  pleasures 
which  they  had  were  sinful,  although  I  have  been  taught 
otherwise;  but  as  I  read  my  Bible,  I  cannot  see  that  in- 
nocent pleasures  are  in  any  way  denied  to  the  Lord's 
people;  and  such  pleasure  as  the  companionship  of  the 
young  Davenant  can  give  John  will,  I  think,  be  alto- 
gether for  his  good." 

"But  the  lad  is  a  Papist,  Hannah." 

"He  is,  Jabez;  but  boys,  methinks,  do  not  argue  among 
themselves  upon  points  of  doctrine;  and  I  have  no  fear 
that  John  will  ever  be  led  from  the  right  path,  nor  in- 
deed, though  it  is  presumption  for  a  woman  to  say  so,  do 
I  feel  so  sure  as  our  ministers,  that  ours  is  the  only  path 
to  heaven.  We  believe  firmly  that  it  is  the  best  path, 
but  others  believe  as  firmly  in  their  paths;  and  I  cannot 
think,  Jabez,  that  all  mankind,  save  those  who  are  within 
the  fold  of  our  church,  can  be  condemned  by  the  good 
Lord  to  perdition." 

"Your  words  are  bold,  Hannah,  and  I  know  not  what 
my  father  and  the  elders  of  the  church  would  say  were 
they  to  hear  them.  As  to  that  I  will  not  argue,  but  me- 
thinks that  you  are  right  in  saying  that  the  companion- 
ship of  the  young  Davenant  will  do  our  boy  no  harm,  but 
the  lad  must  have  his  father's  consent.  Though  I  reckon 
that  we  could  count  pounds  where  they  could  count  shil- 
lings, yet  in  the  opinion  of  the  world  they  assuredly  stand 
above  us.  Moreover,  as  it  is  only  in  human  nature  that 
they  should  regard  us  as  those  who  have  despoiled  them, 
John  must  have  no  dealings  with  their  son  without  their 
consent;  if  that  be  given  I  have  naught  to  say  against  it. " 

And  so  John  told  Walter  next  time  they  met,  and 
learned  in  reply  that  Walter  had  already  obtained  his 
father's  consent  to  going  out  rambles  with  him;  so  the 
boys  became  companions  and  friends,  and  each  benefited 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  11 

by  it.  To  John,  the  bright,  careless  ease  and  gayety  of 
Walter's  talk  and  manner  were  at  first  strange  indeed, 
after  the  restraint  and  gloom  of  his  home;  but  in  time  he 
caught  something  of  his  companion's  tone,  until,  as  has 
been  said,  his  altered  manner  and  bearing  struck  and 
annoyed  his  grandfather. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  earnestness  and  solidity  of 
John's  character  was  of  benefit  to  Walter;  and  his  simple 
truthfulness,  the  straightforwardness  of  his  principles, 
and  his  blunt  frankness  in  saying  exactly  what  he 
thought,  influenced  Walter  to  quite  as  large  an  extent  as 
he  had  influenced  John. 

So  the  companionship  between  the  lads  had  gone  on 
for  two  years.  In  fine  weather  they  had  met  once  or 
twice  a  week  and  had  taken  long  rambles  together,  or, 
throwing  themselves  down  on  the  slopes  facing  the  sea, 
had  talked  over  subjects  of  mutual  interest.  Walter's 
education  was  far  in  advance  of  that  of  his  companion, 
whose  reading,  indeed,  had  been  confined  to  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  the  works  of  divines  and  controversialists  of 
his  own  church,  and  whose  acquirements  did  not  extend 
beyond  the  most  elementary  subjects. 

To  him  everything  that  Walter  knew  was  novel  and 
strange;  and  he  eagerly  devoured,  after  receiving  permis- 
sion from  his  mother,  the  books  which  Walter  lent  him, 
principally  histories,  travels,  and  the  works  of  Milton 
and  Shakespeare.  As  to  the  latter,  Hannah  had  at  first 
some  scruples;  and  it  was  only  after  setting  herself,  with 
great  misgivings  as  to  the  lawfulness  of  the  act,  to  peruse 
the  book  that  she  suffered  her  son  to  read  it.  The 
volume  only  contained  some  ten  of  Shakespeare's  plays; 
and  Hannah,  on  handing  the  book  to  her  son,  said : 

"I  do  not  pretend,  John,  to  understand  all  that  is 
written  there,  but  I  cannot  see  that  there  is  evil  in  it. 
There  are  assuredly  many  noble  thoughts  and  much 


12  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

worldly  wisdom.  Did  I  think  that  ycur  life  would  be 
passed  here,  I  should  say  that  it  were  better  for  you  not 
to  read  a  book  which  gives  a  picture  of  a  life  so  different 
from  what  yours  would  be;  but  none  can  say  what  your 
lot  may  be.  And  although  I  have  heard  much  about  the 
wickedness  of  the  stage,  I  can  see  no  line  in  this  book 
which  could  do  harm  to  you.  I  do  not  see  it  can  do  you 
much  good,  John,  but  neither  do  I  see  that  it  can  do  you 
any  harm;  therefore,  if  you  have  set  your  mind  on  it, 
read  it,  my  boy.*' 

It  was  a  stormy  evening  in  the  first  week  of  November, 
1688.  The  wind  was  blowing  in  fierce  gusts,  making 
every  door  and  casement  quiver  in  Davenant  Castle, 
while  between  the  gusts  the  sound  of  the  deep  roar  of  the 
sea  on  the  rocks  far  below  could  be  plainly  heard.  Mrs. 
Davenant  was  sitting  in  a  high-backed  chair  on  one  side 
of  the  great  fireplace,  in  which  a  pile  of  logs  was  blazing. 
Her  son  had  just  laid  down  a  book  which  he  could  no 
longer  see  to  read,  while  her  daughter-in-law  was  indus- 
triously knitting.  Walter  was  wandering  restlessly  be- 
tween the  fire  and  the  window,  looking  out  at  the  flying 
clouds,  through  which  the  moon  occasionally  struggled. 

"Do  sit  down,  Walter,"  his  mother  said  at  last.  "You 
certainly  are  the  most  restless  creature  I  ever  saw." 

"Not  always,  mother;  but  I  cannot  help  wondering 
about  that  ship  we  saw  down  the  coast  making  for  the 
bay.  She  was  about  ten  miles  out,  and  seemed  to  be 
keeping  her  course  when  I  saw  her  last  half  an  hour  ago; 
but  I  can  see  by  the  clouds  that  the  wind  has  drawn 
round  more  to  the  north,  and  I  doubt  much  whether  she 
will  be  able  to  gain  the  bay." 

"In  that  case,  Walter,"  his  father  said,  "if  her  captain 
knows  his  business  he  will  wear  round  and  run  down  for 
Waterford.  I  agree  with  you,"  he  continued,  after  walk- 
ing to  the  window  and  watching  the  clouds,  "that  a  vessel 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN  13 

coming  from  the  south  will  hardly  weather  Bray  Head 
with  this  wind." 

He  had  scarcely  spoken  when  the  door  opened,  and  one 
of  the  servants  entered. 

"Your  honor,  a  boy  has  just  come  up  from  the  village; 
he  says  that  John  Considine  sent  him  to  tell  you  that  a 
large  ship  is  driving  in  to  shore,  and  that  he  thinks  she 
will  strike  not  far  from  the  village.''* 

"Why,  on  earth,"  Mr.  Davenant  exclaimed,  "doesn't 
he  tack  and  stand  out  to  sea!" 

"The  boy  says  her  foremast  is  gone/and  they  have  lost 
all  management  of  her." 

"In  that  case  God  help  them!  there  is  little  chance  for 
them  on  this  rocky  coast;  however,  I  will  go  down  at 
once  and  see  if  anything  can  be  done.  Katherine,  do 
you  see  that  there  are  plenty  of  hot  blankets  ready  in 
case  any  of  the  poor  fellows  are  washed  ashore.  I  shall, 
of  course,  send  them  up  here.  I  suppose,  Walter,  you 
will  come  down  with  me." 

But  Walter  had  already  disappeared,  having  slipped  off 
as  soon  as  he  had  heard  the  message. 

"Don't  let  that  boy  get  into  mischief,  Fergus,"  old 
Mrs.  Davenant  said. 

"I  am  afraid,  mother,  he  is  beyond  me,"  her  son  said 
with  a  smile.  "No  Davenant  yet  could  ever  keep  out  of 
mischief,  and  Walter  is  no  exception;  however,  fortu- 
nately for  us,  we  generally  get  out  of  scrapes  as  easily  as 
we  get  into  them." 

"Not  always,  Fergus,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head. 

"No,  not  always,  mother;  but  exceptions,  you  know, 
prove  the  rule." 

"Well,  Godfrey,  do  you  want  to  go?"  he  asked  the 
younger  boy,  who  had  risen  from  the  table,  and  was  look- 
ing eagerly  at  him.  "Of  course  you  do;  but,  mind,  you 
must  keep  close  to  me.  Ah,  Father  John!"  he  broke  off 


14  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

as  an  ecclesiastic,  muffled  up  to  the  throat  in  wrappings, 
entered  the  room,  "are  you  going  down  too?" 

"Assuredly  I  am,  Fergus;  you  don't  think  a  trifle  of 
wind  would  keep  me  from  doing  my  duty?" 

In  another  two  minutes  the  two  men  and  Godfrey 
sallied  out.  They  staggered  as  the  wind  struck  them, 
and  Godfrey  clung  to  his  father's  arm.  Not  a  word  was 
spoken  as  they  made  their  way  down  the  steep  descent  to 
the  village,  which  consisted  of  about  a  dozen  fishermen's 
huts.  Indeed,  speaking  would  have  been  useless,  for  no 
word  would  have  been  heard  above  the  howling  of  the 
storm. 

The  vessel  was  visible  to  them  as  they  made  their  way 
down  the  hill.  She  was  a  complete  wreck.  The  light  of 
the  moon  was  sufficient  for  them  to  see  that  she  had,  as 
the  boy  said,  lost  her  foremast.  Her  sails  were  in  rib- 
bons, and  she  was  laboring  heavily  in  the  sea,  each  wave 
that  struck  her  breaking  over  her  bows  and  sweeping 
along  her  deck.  There  was  no  hope  for  her;  she  could 
neither  tack  nor  wear,  and  no  anchor  would  hold  for  a 
moment  on  that  rocky  bottom  in  such  a  sea. 

On  reaching  the  village  they  joined  a  group  of  fisher- 
men who  were  standing  under  the  shelter  of  the  end  of  a 
cottage. 

"Can  nothing  be  done,  Considine?"  Mr.  Davenant 
shouted  in  the  ear  of  one  of  the  fishermen. 

"Not  a  thing,  yer  honor;  she  has  just  let  drop  one  of 
her  anchors." 

"But  they  could  not  hope  it  would  hold  there,"  Mr. 
Davenant  said. 

"Not  they,  your  honor,  onless  they  were  mad.  They 
hoped  it  would  hoult  so  as  to  bring  her  head  round;  but 
the  cable  went  as  soon  as  the  strain  came.  I  saw  her 
head  go  sharp  up  to  the  wind,  and  then  fall  off  again; 
not  that  it  would  have  made  much  difference  in  the  end, 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  15 

though  it  would  have  given  them  half  an  hour  longer  of 
life." 

"Could  we  get  a  boat  off  with  a  line  if  she  strikes?" 

"Look  at  the  sea,  yer  honor.  Mr.  Walter  has  been 
asking  us;  but  there's  no  boat  could  get  through  that 
surf,  not  if  all  Ireland  dipinded  on  it." 

"Where  is  Walter?" 

"Sure  and  I  can't  tell  ye,  yer  honor.  He  was  here  a 
few  minutes  since ;  but  what's  come  of  him  is  more  nor  I 
can  tell  ye." 

"He  went  off  with  Larry  Doolan,"  a  boy  who  was 
standing  next  to  the  fisherman  shouted. 

"Then  as  sure  as  fate  they  are  up  to  some  mischief," 
Mr.  Davenant  said.  "Walter  is  bad  enough  by  himself, 
but  with  Larry  to  help  him  it  would  take  a  regiment  to 
look  after  them." 

"They  can't  be  in  much  mischief  to-night,  yer  honor," 
the  fisherman  said.  "Look,  sir,  she's  coming  in  fast. 
She  draws  a  power  of  water,  and  she  will  strike  in  a  minute 
or  two." 

"She  seems  crowded  with  men.  Can  nothing  be  done 
to  help  them?"  the  priest  asked. 

"Nothing,  your  reverence.  Praying  for  them  is  the 
only  thing  that  can  help  the  poor  sowls  now." 

"You  are  sure  it's  not  possible  to  launch  a  boat,  Con- 
sidine?" 

"Look  for  yourself,  yer  honor.  There's  not  a  boat  oa 
the  coast  that  could  get  through  them  breakers.  There 
she  goes." 

Even  above  the  noise  of  the  storm  a  loud  cry  was  heard 
and  the  crash  of  breaking  timber,  as  with  the  shock  the 
main  and  mizzen  masts,  weakened  by  the  loss  of  the  fore- 
mast, went  over  the  sides.  The  next  great  wave  drove 
the  vessel  forward  two  or  three  fathoms. 

"That's  her  last  move,"  Considine  said.  "The  rocks 
will  be  through  her  bottom  now." 


16  ORANGE  AND  OREBN. 

"They  are  off,'*  a  boy  shouted  running  up. 

"Who  are  off?"  Considine  asked. 

"The  young  squire  and  Larry  Doolan." 

"Off  where?"  Mr.  Davenant  exclaimed. 

"Off  in  the  curragh,  yer  honor.  Me  and  Tim  Connolly 
helped  them  carry  it  round  the  Nose,  and  they  launched 
her  there.  There  they  are.  Sure  you  can  see  them  for 
yourself." 

The  party  rushed  out  from  the  shelter,  and  there,  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  along  on  the  right,  a  small  boat  was 
Been  making  its  way  over  the  waves. 

"Be  jabers,  yer  honor,  and  they  have  done  it,"  the  • 
boatmen  said  as  Mr.  Davenant  gave  a  cry  of  alarm. 

"I  didn't  think  of  the  curragh,  and  if  I  had  she  could 
not  have  been  launched  here.  Mr.  Walter  has  hit  on  the 
only  place  where  there  was  a  chance.  Under  the  shelter 
of  the  Nose  it  might  be  done,  but  nowhere  else." 

The  Nose  was  a  formidable  reef  of  rocks  running  off 
from  a  point  and  trending  to  the  south.  Many  a  ship 
had  gone  ashore  on  its  jagged  edge,  but  with  the  wind 
from  the  northeast  it  formed  somewhat  of  a  shelter,  and 
it  was  under  its  lee  that  Walter  and  Larry  had  launched 
the  curragh. 

The  curragh  is  still  found  on  the  Irish  coast.  It  is  a 
boat  whose  greatest  width  is  at  the  stern,  so  much  so 
that  it  looks  like  a  boat  cut  in  two.  The  floor  is  almost 
flat,  and  rises  so  much  to  the  bow  that  three  or  four  feet 
are  entirely  out  of  water.  They  are  roughly  built,  and 
by  no  means  fast,  but  they  are  wonderfully  good  sea- 
boats  for  their  size,  and  can  live  in  seas  which  would 
swamp  a  boat  of  ordinary  build.  Walter  had,  with  the 
assistance  of  Larry  Doolan,  built  this  boat  for  going  out 
fishing.  It  was  extremely  light,  being  a  mere  framework 
covered  with  tarred  canvas.  As  soon  as  Walter  had 
reached  the  village,  and  found  that  the  fishermen  con- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  17 

sidered  that  no  boat  could  possibly  be  put  out,  he  had 
found  and  held  a  consultation  with  Larry. 

"Do  you  think  the  curragh  could  go  out,  Larry?" 

"Not  she,  yer  honor.  She  would  just  be  broke  up 
like  an  eggshell  with  them  breakers." 

"But  she  might  float  if  we  got  beyond  them,  Larry." 

"She  might  that,"  Larry  agreed,  "seeing  how  light 
she  is." 

"Well,  will  you  go  with  me,  Larry?" 

"Sure  and  I  would  go  anywhere  with  yer  honor,  but 
she  could  never  get  out." 

"I  am  thinking,  Larry,  that  if  we  carry  her  along 
beyond  the  Nose  we  might  find  it  calmer  there." 

"Well,  we  might,"  Larry  agreed.  "At  any  rate  we 
can  try." 

So,  calling  together  two  or  three  other  boys,  they  had 
lifted  the  light  boat  and  carried  it  with  its  oars  along  the 
shore  until  they  got  beyond  the  Nose;  but  even  here  it 
was  a  formidable  business  to  launch  her,  for  although  the 
rocks  broke  the  full  force  of  the  seas,  throwing  the  spray 
hundreds  of  feet  up  in  the  air,  the  waves  poured  through 
the  intervals,  and  dashed  over  the  lower  rocks  in  such 
masses  that  formidable  waves  rolled  in  to  the  shore. 

After  much  consultation  the  boys  agreed  that  their 
best  plan  was  to  scramble  out  on  the  rocks  as  far  as  pos- 
sible so  as  to  launch  the  boat  beyond  the  break  of  the 
surf. 

It  was  a  hazardous  enterprise,  and  the  whole  party 
were  several  times  nearly  washed  into  the  water  as  they 
struggled  out.  At  last  they  reached  a  spot  beyond  which 
they  could  go  no  further,  as  a  deep  passage  was  here 
broken  in  the  rock.  But  they  were  now  beyond  the  line 
of  breakers.  After  several  vain  efforts  to  launch  the 
boat,  in  each  of  which  she  narrowly  escaped  destruction, 
they  agreed  that  the  only  plan  was,  after  a  wave  passed, 


18  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

to  drop  her  on  to  a  flat  rock,  which  then  showed  above 
the  water,  and  to  jump  into  her. 

The  two  boys  on  shore  were  to  hold  the  head  rope  to 
prevent  her  being  dashed  toward  the  land  by  the  next 
wave,  while  Larry  worked  with  the  oars  to  get  her  away 
from  the  ridge.  The  moment  the  wave  had  passed 
under  them  the  head  rope  was  to  be  thrown  off.  This 
plan  was  carried  out.  The  two  boys  had  but  just  time  to 
jump  into  the  boat  and  get  out  their  oars  when  the  next 
wave  lifted  the  boat  high  on  its  crest.  The  lads  holding 
the  rope  were  nearly  torn  from  the  rock,  but  they  held 
on  till  the  strain  ceased,  then  they  threw  in  the  rope,  and 
Walter  and  Larry  bent  to  their  oars. 

"Row  easy,  Larry,"  Walter  said  as  the  next  wave 
passed  under  them,  "and  put  her  head  to  each  wave." 

Terrible  as  was  the  sea,  the  curragh  floated  buoyantly 
over  it,  though  several  times,  as  she  rose  to  the  steep 
waves,  Walter  thought  that  she  would  be  thrown  right 
over.  The  worst  part  of  their  task  was  over  when  they 
got  beyond  the  end  of  the  Nose,  for  up  to  that  point 
they  were  forced  to  row  across  the  course  of  the  waves, 
and  continually  to  turn  the  boat  to  face  the  great  masses 
of  water  which  ran  between  the  rocks.  But  once  beyond 
the  end  of  the  reef  they  turned  her  head  north  and 
rowed  straight  toward  the  ship. 

"She  has  struck,  Master  Walter/'  Larry  said,  glancing 
over  his  shoulder,  "and  her  masts  are  gone." 

"Lay  out,  then,  Larry,  there's  no  time  to  lose." 

But  in  spite  of  their  efforts  the  boat  moved  but  slowly 
through  the  water,  for  the  wind  caught  her  high  bow 
with  such  force  that  at  times  it  needed  all  their  strength 
and  skill  to  keep  her  head  straight.  At  last  they  were 
close  to  the  ship,  which  already  showed  signs  of  break- 
ing up.  They  ranged  up  alongside  of  it. 

"Fasten  a  line  to  a  keg  ana  throw  it  in,"  Walter 
shouted. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  10 

In  a  minute  a  keg  was  thrown  overboard  with  a  line 
attached.  As  soon  as  it  drifted  a  little  way  from  the 
Teasel's  side  they  hauled  it  into  the  boat. 

"Now,  back,  Larry;  these  waves  would  sink  us  in  a 
moment  if  we  turn  our  stern  to  them." 

The  wreck  lay  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  shore, 
and  the  boat  backed  until  close  to  the  line  where  the 
waves  toppled  over  in  a  torrent  of  foam. 

"Now,  Larry,  keep  her  steady;  we  are  as  near  as  we 
dare  go." 

Then  Walter  stood  up  in  the  boat,  took  the  keg  and  a 
foot  or  two  of  line  in  his  hand,  and  waited  till  the  next 
wave  passed  under  'the  boat.  He  swung  the  keg  round 
his  head  and  hurled  it  toward  the  shore.  Then  he 
dropped  into  his  seat  and  gave  two  or  three  vigorous 
strokes,  and,  when  safely  beyond  the  line  of  breakers, 
sat  quiet  and  watched  the  result. 

"They  have  missed  it  the  first  time,"  he  said.  "Look! 
they  are  going  to  run  into  the  surf  for  it." 

The  group  on  the  shore  joined  hands,  and  the  next 
time  the  keg  was  borne  forward  in  the  tumble  of  foam 
Considine  ran  forward  and  seized  it.  The  back  rush  took 
him  from  his  feet,  but  the  others  held  on,  and  before  the 
next  wave  came  the  line  was  safely  on  the  beach.  A 
strong  cable  was  soon  pulled  ashore  and  firmly  fixed.  A 
light  line  was  attached  to  it,  and  the  sailors  at  once  began 
to  pass  along. 

"Shall  we  turn  back  now,  Master  Walter?" 

"We  will  keep  near  the  wreck  for  a  few  minutes 
longer,  Larry.  She  can't  hold  together  long,  and  maybe 
we  can  pick  somebody  up." 

The  vessel  was  indeed  breaking  up  fast.  Her  stern 
was  burst  in,  and  the  waves,  as  they  poured  in  at  the 
opening,  smashed  up  the  deck.  Many  of  the  crew  had 
been  washed  overboard,  and  had  instantly  disappeared. 


90  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

As  the  boat  approached  the  wreck  an  officer  who  had 
climbed  the  shrouds  shouted  out: 

"Will  your  boat  hold  another?" 

"Yes,"  Walter  shouted  back,  "she  will  hold  two 
more." 

"I  will  try  and  swim  to  you,"  the  officer  said. 

He  threw  off  the  long  cloak  in  which  he  was  wrapped, 
and  unbuckled  his  sword  and  let  it  drop,  unbuttoned  and 
took  off  his  military  coat,  and  with  some  difficulty  got 
rid  of  his  high  boots. 

"Can  you  come  a  bit  nearer?"  he  shouted. 

"We  daren't,"  Walter  said.  "A  touch  from  one  of 
those  floating  timbers  would  send  us  to  the  bottom." 

The  officer  waved  his  hand  and  then  sprang  headfore- 
most into  the  sea.  So  long  was  he  in  the  water  that 
Walter  began  to  think  he  must  have  struck  against  some- 
thing and  was  not  coming  up  again,  when  suddenly  he 
appeared  within  twenty  yards  of  the  boat.  They  rowed 
toward  him  instantly. 

"You  must  get  in  over  the  stern,"  Walter  said. 

The  officer  was  perfectly  cool,  and,  placing  his  hands 
on  the  stern,  drew  himself  partly  over  it,  and  Walter, 
grasping  his  hand,  dragged  him  in.  No  sooner  was  he 
in  than  Walter  again  hailed  the  wreck. 

"We  can  carry  one  more." 

But  those  who  were  still  on  board  were  huddled  up  in 
the  bow  waiting  their  turn  for  the  rope. 

"There  is  a  big  un  coming  now,"  Larry  exclaimed, 
"that  will  finish  her." 

A  wave,  towering  far  above  its  fellows,  was  indeed  ap- 
proaching. Higher  and  higher  it  rose.  There  was  a 
wild  cry  from  the  wreck  as  it  surged  over  it.  When  it 
had  passed  the  sea  was  covered  with  floating  timbers,  but 
the  vessel  was  gone. 

"We  can  do  nothing  now,"  Walter  said,     "We  daren't 


ORANGE  AND  GBEEJT.  31 

go  in  among  that  wreckage,  and  any  who  get  hold  of 
floating  planks  will  drift  ashore.  Now,  Larry,  back 
quietly,  and  let  her  drift  down  round  the  Nose.  Wa 
must  keep  her  head  to  the  waves.'* 

Ten  minutes  and  they  were  abreast  of  the  reef.  As 
soon  as  they  were  past  it  Walter  gave  the  word,  and  they 
rowed  along  under  its  shelter  to  the  point  where  they  had 
embarked. 

"Now,  sir,"  Walter  said,  "we  will  back  her  up  to  that 
rock.  When  we  are  close  enough  you  must  jump." 

This  was  safely  accomplished. 

"Now,  Larry,  row  alongside  when  the  next  wave 
comes;  we  must  both  scramble  out  as  well  as  we  can." 

But  by  this  time  help  was  at  hand.  The  boat  had  been 
anxiously  watched  from  the  shore,  and  when,  on  the  dis- 
appearance of  the  wreck,  she  was  seen  to  be  making  her 
way  back  to  the  Nose,  Mr.  Davenant,  with  Considine  and 
the  priest,  and  the  boys  who  had  assisted  in  getting  her 
afloat,  hurried  along  the  shore  to  meet  her,  the  rest  of 
the  fishermen  remaining  behind  to  aid  any  who  might  be 
washed  up  from  the  wreck.  As  soon  as  it  was  seen  that 
they  intended  to  land  at  the  spot  where  they  had  started, 
Considine  and  Mr.  Davenant  made  their  way  along  the 
rock  and  joined  the  officer  just  as  he  leaped  ashore.  The 
boat  came  alongside  on  the  top  of  the  wave,  and  as  this 
sank  it  grazed  the  rock  and  capsized,  but  Walter  and 
Larry  grasped  the  hands  stretched  out  to  them,  and  were 
hauled  on  to  the  rock,  while  the  next  wave  dashed  the 
•urragh  in  fragments  on  the  beach. 


OUANQB  AND  GREEN. 


CHAPTER  II. 

FOR   JAMBS   OB   WILLIAM. 

"MY  dear  Walter,"  his  father  exclaimed  as  he  em- 
braced his  son  as  he  scrambled  on  shore,  "you  have  be- 
haved like  a  hero  indeed,  but  you  oughtn't  to  have  done 
it;  and  you  too,  Larry.  You  both  deserve  a  sound 
thrashing  for  the  fright  you  have  given  us." 

"They  may  have  frightened  you,  sir,"  the  officer  said, 
"but  assuredly  I  owe  my  life  to  these  brave  lads.  I  have 
scarcely  thanked  them  yet,  for  indeed  until  I  felt  my 
foot  on  the  rock  I  had  but  small  hopes  of  reaching  shore 
safely  in  that  cock-boat  of  theirs.  After  feeling  that 
great  ship  so  helpless  against  the  waves,  it  seemed  im- 
possible that  a  mere  eggshell  could  float  over  them.  My 
name,  sir,  is  Colonel  L'Estrange,  at  your  service." 

"My  name  is  Davenant,  colonel,  and  I  am  truly  glad 
that  my  son  has  rescued  you;  but  the  sooner  you  are  up 
at  my  place  the  better,  sir.  This  is  no  weather  for  stand- 
ing talking  in  shirt-sleeves." 

They  now  made  their  way  along  the  rock  back  to  the 
shore,  and  then  hurried  to  the  village.  There  they 
learned  that  six  men  had  succeeded  in  getting  to  shore 
along  the  rope  before  the  vessel  broke  up. 

Telling  Larry  he  had  best  have  a  glass  of  hot  spirits 
and  then  turn  into  bed  at  once,  and  that  he  was  to  come 
up  to  the  house  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  Mr. 
Davenant,  with  the  priest,  Colonel  L'Estrange,  and 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  23 

Walter  made  his  way  up  to  the  house,  to  which  the  men 
who  had  reached  the  shore  had  been  already  taken. 

The  party  were  met  at  the  door  by  Mrs.  Davenant, 
who  had  been  extremely  anxious,  for  Godfery  had  been 
sent  home  by  his  father  as  soon  as  the  wreck  went  to 
pieces,  and  had  brought  the  news  of  Walter's  doings  up 
to  that  time. 

"He  is  quite  safe,  Katherine,"  Mr.  Davenant  said, 
"but  you  mustn't  stop  either  to  scold  him  or  praise  him 
at  present.  Hurry  off,  Walter,  and  get  between  the 
blankets;  I  will  bring  you  up  some  hot  spiced  wine  di- 
rectly. Katherine,  this  is  Colonel  L'Estrange,  whom 
Walter  has  brought  ashore  in  his  boat.  You  will  excuse 
him  at  present,  for  he  has  been  for  hours  exposed  to  the 
storm,  and  must  be  half-frozen  as  well  as  half-drowned. 
Now,  colonel,  if  you  will  come  along  with  me  you  will 
find  a  bed  with  hot  blankets  ready,  and  I  doubt  not,  a 
blazing  fire.  Ah,  here  is  the  spiced  wine;  take  a  draught 
of  that  before  you  go  upstairs.  You  can  have  another 
after  you  are  in  bed." 

Three  more  survivors  from  the  wreck  were  presently 
brought  up.  They  had  been  washed  ashore  on  planks, 
as  indeed  had  many  others,  but  the  rest  had  all  been 
beaten  to  death  against  the  rocks  by  the  breakers. 
Walter  slept  late  the  next  morning,  and  when  he  came 
downstairs  found  that  the  others  had  already  finished 
breakfast.  When  he  had  eaten  his  meal  and  listened  to 
the  gentle  scolding  which  his  mother  gave  him  for  risk- 
ing his  life,  he  joined  his  father,  who  was,  with  Colonel 
L'Estrange,  pacing  backward  and  forward  on  the  terrace 
in  front  of  the  house.  The  first  fury  of  the  storm  was 
over,  but  it  still  blew  strongly,  and  a  very  heavy  sea  was 
running, 

"Ah,  my  young  friend,"  Colonel  L'Estrange  said,  ad- 
Tancing,  "I  am  glad  to  see  you,  and  to  be  able  to  thank 


24  ORANGE  AND  GREEN". 

you  more  warmly  than  I  was  able  to  do  last  night,  when 
the  very  words  seemed  frozen  on  my  lips,  for  having 
saved  my  life.  It  was  a  gallant  deed,  and  one  which  your 
father  may  well  be  proud  of.  It  showed  not  only  bravery 
of  the  highest  kind,  but  coolness  and  judgment,  which 
are  virtues  even  more  rare.  I  predict  a  brilliant  future 
for  you,  and  if  in  any  way  my  aid  may  be  of  use  to  you, 
believe  me,  it  will  be  at  your  service." 

"It  was  well  you  were  a  good  swimmer,  sir,"  Walter 
said,  "for  we  could  not  have  helped  you  if  you  had  not 
been  able  to  help  yourself,  for  the  sea  was  covered  with 
pieces  of  wreck,  and  as  the  boat  was  only  covered  with 
canvas  the  slightest  touch  from  one  of  the  jagged  ends 
would  have  made  a  hole  in  it.  I  am  very  much  obliged 
to  you  for  your  kind  offer  of  assistance;  but  at  present 
we  have  not  made  up  our  minds  what  I  am  to  be;  have 
we,  father?" 

"No,  indeed,  "Walter.  You  have  told  me  that  you 
would  like,  at  any  rate  for  a  time,  to  see  something  of  the 
world  before  settling  down  here  for  life;  but  it  is  no  easy 
matter  to  say  what  is  best  for  you  to  do.  Ireland  offers 
but  little  field  for  any  one's  ambition.  Since  King  James 
«jame  to  the  throne,  and  especially  since  Tyrconnell  be- 
came governor,  things  have  been  a  little  more  favorable 
for  us;  and  I  have  hopes  yet  that  justice  will  be  done  to 
the  Catholic  population  of  this  unhappy  country.  Is  it 
not  monstrous,  Colonel  L'Estrange,  that  the  very  men 
who  had  a  hand  in  the  rebellion  against  King  Charles  I. 
should  stiii  be  in  possession  during  the  reign  of  his 
son  of  the  lands  which  were  taken  from  my  father  be- 
cause he  was  loyal  to  his  king?  And  so  it  is  all  over  Ire- 
land, the  descendants  of  Cromwell's  men  lord  it  in  the 
homes  of  tjose  who  were  faithful  to  King  Charles." 

"It  certainly  seems  so,  sir,"  Colonel  L'Estrange  said; 
"but  I  am  no  politician.  I  am  simply  a  soldier,  and  obey 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  25 

orders;  but  I  own  that  it  does  seem  a  cruel  injustice  that 
the  great  portion  of  the  lands  of  this  country  should  be 
held  by  the  descendants  of  Cromwell's  soldiers,  while  the 
lawful  owners,  whose  only  fault  was  that  they  were  loyal 
to  their  king,  should  still  be  dispossessed  of  it." 

"But  I  think  better  times  are  coming,"  Mr.  Davenant 
said.  "There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  king's  leaning  to- 
ward our  religion.  He  has  been  restrained  from  carrying 
his  good-will  toward  us  into  effect  by  his  privy-council- 
ors and  by  the  English  party  here,  whose  interest  it  is  to 
prevent  any  change  being  made,  and  who  constantly  mis- 
represent the  feelings  of  this  country.  From  the  days 
when  Strongbow  first  landed  this  island  has  been  the 
prey  of  adventurers,  whose  only  object  has  been  to  wrest 
the  land  from  the  native  population." 

"But  you  are  yourself  a  descendant  of  one  of  the  earlj 
English  settlers,  Mr.  Davenant." 

"That  is  true  enough,"  Mr.  Davenant  said,  smiling, 
"andnojloubt  he  was  as  bad  as  the  rest  of  them;  but  you 
see  we  have  held  the  land  for  some  centuries  now,  and, 
like  the  other  descendants  of  Strongbow's  men,  have 
come  to  look  at  matters  from  the  Irish  point  of  view 
rather  than  the  English;  however,  I  hope  for  better 
times." 

"You  haven't  heard  the  news,  then,  about  the  Prince 
of  Orange?" 

"No;  what  is  the  news?"  Mr.  Davenant  asked. 
"There  have  been  rumors  for  years  that  he  intended  to 
make  a  bid  for  the  English  throne;  but  I  have  heard 
nothing  else." 

"There  was  a  report  before  I  left  London  that  he  has 
already  sailed  from  Holland,"  Colonel  I/Estrange  re- 
plied; "and  indeed  I  have  no  doubt  the  rumor  is  well 
founded." 

"But    he    will    never  succeed,"   Mr.   Davenant  said 


£6  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

eagerly.  "He  will  be  put  down  as  easily  as  Monmouth 
was." 

"I  do  not  know/'  Colonel  I/Estrange  said  gravely. 
"The  Protestant  feeling  in  England  is  very  strong. 
Monmouth  was  vain  and  empty-headed,  and  he  wrecked 
his  own  cause.  The  Dutchman  is  a  different  sort  of  man 
altogether,  and  one  thing  is  certain,  if  King  James  can 
make  a  mess  of  matters  he  is  sure  to  do  so.  The  Stuarts 
have  always  been  feeble  and  indecisive,  and  James  is  the 
most  feeble  and  indecisive  of  them.  If  William  suc- 
ceeds in  effecting  a  landing,  I  think  his  chance  of  success 
is  a  good  one." 

"He  may  reign  in  England, "  Mr.  Davenant  broke  in 
passionately,  "but  he  will  not  reign  in  Ireland.  But  for- 
give me,"  he  broke  off.  "I  forgot  for  a  moment  that 
you  are  an  Englishman  and  my  guest." 

"You  need  not  apologize,  Mr.  Davenant.  As  I  said,  I 
am  a  soldier  and  no  politician.  My  ancestors  were  royal- 
ists, and  I  have  no  great  love  for  the  Dutch  stadtholder, 
who  will  be  supported  in  England  by  the  class  who  rose 
against  King  Charles.  At  the  same  time  it  is  difficult  to 
feel  much  enthusiasm  for  the  Stuarts.  The  first  was  a 
pedant;  the  second  threw  away  his  chances  over  and  over 
again  by  his  duplicity  and  want  of  faith;  the  third  was 
utterly  selfish  and  unprincipled;  the  fourth  is  a  gloomy 
bigot.  Charles  was,  and  James  is,  a  pensioner  of  France. 
How  can  men  be  ready  to  sacrifice  everything  for  such  a 
race  as  this?" 

"That  is  not  the  way  in  which  we  look  at  it  in  Ireland," 
Mr.  Davenant  said.  "The  wars  here  are  waged  under 
various  pretenses;  some  one  is  goaded  into  rebellion, 
false  charges  are  preferred  wholesale,  or  there  is  a  reli- 
gious pretext;  but  we  all  know  what  is  at  the  bottom  of 
them  all,  simply  the  greed  of  English  adventurers  for 
Irish  land;  and  not  content  with  having  dispossessed  tha 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  27 

ancient  owners  of  three-fourths  of  the  cultivated  land  of 
the  country,  they  want  the  remainder,  and  under  the 
pretense  that  we,  the  descendants  of  the  early  settlers, 
are  in  sympathy  with  our  Irish  neighbors,  they  have 
marked  us  out  for  destruction,  and  already  a  great  por- 
tion of  our  estates  is  in  the  hands  of  Cromwell's  men. 
So  gross  have  been  the  abuses  that  the  commission, 
which  the  king  appointed  to  inquire  into  the  seizure  of 
our  estates,  only  ventured  to  sit  one  day,  for  the  proofs 
brought  forward  were  so  overwhelmingly  strong  that  it 
was  seen  at  once  that  [did  the  inquiry  continue  it  would 
be  made  manifest  to  all  the  world  that  justice  could  be 
satisfied  by  nothing  less  than  a  clear  sweep  of  all  those 
men  who  have  seized  our  estates. 

"If  Ireland  rises  in  favor  of  King  James  it  will  not  be 
for  any  love  for  the  Stuarts;  but  it  will  be  to  recover  the 
land  which  has  been  illegally  wrested  from  us,  and  which, 
if  Dutch  William  and  his  Whig  adherents  gain  the  upper 
hand,  will  be  taken  from  us  forever.  The  religious  ele- 
ment will,  of  course,  count  for  much.  Already  we  have 
suffered  persecution  for  our  religion;  and  if  the  Whigs 
could  have  their  way  they  would  stamp  it  out  utterly 
with  fire  and  sword.  Things  have  looked  better  during 
the  last  five  or  six  years  than  they  have  done  since  Crom- 
well first  put  foot  in  Ireland.  We  have  begun  to  hope 
for  justice.  Tyrconnell  has  stood  up  for  us,  and  with 
the  good-will  of  James  has  gained  many  concessions. 
We  have  now  what  we  never  had  before,  an  Irish  army. 
The  land  thieves  have  been  fairly  alarmed,  for  they  have 
seen  that  the  long-delayed  justice  will  be  done  us  at  last. 
Many  have  sold  back  their  lands  to  the  original  owners 
and  have  left  the  country;  others  are  only  holding  out 
for  better  terms.  Another  ten  years  of  James*  reign  and 
things  would  have  righted  themselves;  but  if  the  Dutch- 
man ascends  the  throne  of  England  there  is  no  hope  for 
Ireland  save  in  the  sword." 


38  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"Well,  we  must  hope  it  will  not  come  to  that,"  Colo- 
nel L'Estrange  said.  "I  am  ready  to  fight  the  "battles 
of  England  on  the  Continent,  hut  civil  war  with  all  its 
horrors  sickens  me;  and  civil  war  here  is  not  like  our 
civil  war  in  England.  There  were  no  race  animosities 
there,  no  memory  of  cruel  wrongs  on  one  side  or  the 
other;  men  fought  for  a  principle,  hut  there  were  no 
atrocities  committed  on  either  side  like  those  which  have 
devastated  Germany.  The  peasant  plowed  the  land,  and 
the  trader  kept  open  his  shop  unmolested.  It  is  true 
that  toward  the  end  there  were  confiscations  of  the  prop- 
erty of  those  who  still  continued  the  strife,  and  a  few 
axecutions  of  individuals;  hut,  taking  it  as  a  whole,  no 
war  has  ever  caused  so  little  suffering  to  the  people  at 
large  as  did  the  civil  war  in  England;  but  assuredly  a  war 
in  Ireland  now,  like  those  which  have  gone  before,  would 
be  marked  by  the  foulest  atrocities,  massacres,  and  de- 
struction on  both  sides." 

"Yes,"  Mr.  Davenant  said,  "I  must  own  that  for 
downright  brutal  and  bloody  ferocity  the  wars  in  Ireland 
rival  those  of  the  Huns." 

Walter  had  listened  in  silence  to  this  conversation. 
His  father  now  turned  to  him. 

"Have  you  heard  whether  Larry  has  recovered  from 
his  adventure  of  yesterday  as  well  as  you  have?" 

"No,  father,  I  have  not  heard  anything  about  it.  I 
came  out  here  directly  I  finished  my  breakfast.  How  are 
the  people  who  were  brought  up  here?" 

"They  are  going  on  well,  Walter,  but  they  were  all  so 
bruised  as  they  were  being  drawn  up  through  the  surf 
that  it  will  be  some  days  before  any  of  them  can  leave 
their  beds.  How  many  had  you  on  board,  colonel?" 

"I  did  not  see  the  list  of  passengers,  but  there  were 
twelve  or  fourteen  aft,  and  from  what  I  saw  I  should 
think  as  many  more  forward;  there  were  twenty-three 


ORANGE  AND  QUEEN.  29 

men  in  the  crew.  I  suppose  altogether  there  were  some 
fifty  on  board." 

"Are  you  going  to  make  a  long  stay  in  Ireland?" 

"No;  I  shall  only  remain  here  a  week  or  two.  I  am 
the  bearer  of  some  letters  from  the  king  to  Tyrconnell; 
and  that  reminds  me  that  I  must  be  making  my  way  on 
to  Dublin." 

"I  will  ride  in  with  you,"  Mr.  Davenant  said.  "I 
must  tell  my  friends  this  news  that  you  bring;  it  seems 
to  me  to  be  most  serious.  I  will  have  a  horse  round  for 
you  here  in  half  an  hour  if  that  will  suit  you." 

"Perfectly,"  Colonel  L'Estrange  replied;  "that  will 
just  give  me  time  to  walk  round  to  the  village  to  see  the 
lad  you  call  Larry,  for  I  could  not  go  without  thanking 
him  for  the  share  he  had  in  preserving  my  life.  Perhaps 
you  will  go  down  with  me,  Walter,  and  show  me  his 
house?" 

When  they  reached  the  shore  they  found  the  whole 
population  of  the  village  engaged  in  dragging  up  the 
spars,  planks,  and  pieces  of  timber  with  which  the  rocks 
were  strewn. 

"There  is  Larry,"  Walter  said;  "it  is  evident  that 
there's  nothing  the  matter  with  him." 

Larry  was  indeed  just  coming  up  dragging  a  piece  of 
timber  behind  him,  while  in  his  left  hand  he  held  a  large 
bundle  of  fragments  of  wood  of  different  sizes,  which,  as 
well  as  the  timber,  he  was  taking  home  for  firing. 

"Larry,  come  here;  the  English  gentleman  wants  to 
speak  to  you." 

The  boy  dropped  his  wood  and  came  up. 

"My  lad,"  Colonel  L'Estrange  said,  "I  am  greatly  in- 
debted to  you  for  your  work  of  last  night.  Take  this," 
and  he  placed  a  purse  of  ten  guineas  in  Larry's  hand. 
"And  remember  that  I  am  still  greatly  your  debtor,  and 
that  if  at  any  future  time  you  should  be  in  a  position  in 


80  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

which  my  aid  may  be  useful,  you  have  only  to  let  me 
know  and  I  will  stand  your  friend." 

The  sum  appeared  to  Larry  to  be  enormous. 

"Long  life  to  yer  honor,  and  it's  proud  I  am  to  have 
been  of  service  to  such  a  grand  gentleman.  It's  thank- 
ful I  am  for  your  kindness,  and  if  ever  you  want  a  boy  to 
do  a  job  for  you  it's  myself  that  will  be  proud  to  do  it. 
As  to  yesterday,  I  just  came  because  the  young  squire 
tould  me  to,  and  thankful  I  am  that  he  got  back  safe  to 
shore,  for  if  we  had  been  drowned  I  don't  know  whatever 
I  should  have  said  to  the  squire." 

Two  days  after  the  shipwreck  Walter  and  John  White- 
foot  met  at  the  place  which  they  had  agreed  on  when 
they  last  saw  each  other  four  days  before. 

"I  heard  of  your  brave  deed  on  the  night  of  the  storm, 
Walter — every  one  is  talking  of  it;  and  even  my  grand- 
father, who  has  seldom  a  good  word  for  any  of  you  at  the 
Castle,  said  that  it  was  a  noble  deed.  It  was  as  much  as 
I  could  do  not  to  say,  '"ies,  he  is  a  friend  of  mine;'  for  I 
felt  proud  of  you,  I  can  tell  you." 

"It  is  all  nonsense,  John.  I  have  often  been  out  in  a 
curragh  in  bad  weather,  though  never  in  quite  such  a 
storm  as  that;  but,  once  launched,  she  rode  lightly 
enough,  and  scarce  shipped  a  spoonful  of  water." 

"I  should  like  to  have  been  there,"  John  said;  "but  I 
should  have  been  no  use.  My  people  have  always  been 
against  my  going  down  to  the  sea,  deeming  it  a  pure 
waste  of  time,  except  that  they  let  me  go  down  to  swim. 
I  can  do  that  well,  you  know;  but  they  have  always  for- 
bidden my  going  out  in  boats.  Now,  you  see,  it  is 
proved  that  it  is  not  a  waste  of  time,  for  you  have  been 
able  to  save  many  lives.  The  thought  must  make  you 
very  happy." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  that  it  does  particularly,"  Walter 
said  carelessly,  "Of  course  I  was  glad  at  the  time,  but  I 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  31 

have  not  thought  much  about  it  one  way  or  the  other 
since.  You  see  the  news  that  has  come  has  driven  every- 
thing else  out  of  our  heads." 

"Is  it  true,  then,  the  report  that  we  heard  yesterday, 
that  William  of  Orange  has  set  out  for  England?" 

"Yes,  it  is  true  enough;  and  I  am  afraid,  by  what  I 
hear,  that  it  is  likely  to  cause  all  sorts  of  troubles." 

"I  suppose  so,"  John  said  gravely;  "and  of  course  in 
this  matter  my  people  think  differently  from  yours.  You 
know  we  agreed  that  we  would  never  talk  on  these  sub- 
jects, but  I  am  afraid  the  time  is  coming  when  there  will 
be  nothing  else  to  be  talked  of." 

"I  am  afraid  so  too,  John.  My  father  thinks  that 
there  will  be  civil  war  again." 

"Of  course  my  grandfather  is  delighted,"  John  said 
quietly;  "he  has  been  greatly  disturbed  in  his  mind  for 
some  months  owing  to  the  leanings  of  King  James  toward 
the  Irish,  which  seem  to  point  to  his  having  to  give  up 
no  small  portion  of  the  lands." 

"We  thought  so  too,  John;  and  although  it  is  your 
father  who  would  lose  and  mine  who  would  gain,  I  don't 
think  that  even  you  can  deny  that  it  would  be  reasonable. 
Your  grandfather  got  the  land  from  mine  because  he 
fought  for  Cromwell  against  the  king,  and  Cromwell  got 
the  best  of  it.  Well,  it  seems  only  reasonable  that  when 
the  king  again  came  to  the  throne,  those  who  fought  for 
Mm  should  get  their  own  again." 

"It  does  seem  so,  Walter,  I  must  own;  and  I  am  sure  I 
should  not  have  cared  for  myself  if  the  land  was  given 
back  again  to  your  father  to-morrow.  Then  I  suppose 
we  should  go  back  to  England;  and  as  I  know  my  grand- 
father has  done  well  and  has  laid  by  a  good  deal  of 
money,  they  could  take  a  farm  there;  and  there  would 
be  more  chance  of  their  letting  me  enter  upon  some 
handicraft.  I  would  rathei  that  by  a  great  deal  than 


38  ORANGE  AND  GREE1T. 

farming.  All  these  books  you  have  lent  me,  Walter, 
have  shown  me  what  great  and  noble  deeds  there  are  to  be 
done  in  the  world — I  don't  mean  in  fighting,  you  know, 
but  in  other  ways.  And  they  make  the  life  here,  toiling 
on  the  farm  from  sunrise  to  sunset  with  no  object  save 
that  of  laying  by  every  year  more  money,  seem  terribly 
empty  and  worthless. 

"By  the  way,  my  grandfather  was  yesterday  evening 
rating  my  father  because,  instead  of  always  keeping  me 
hard  at  work,  he  allowed  me  once  or  twice  a  week  to  be 
away  for  hours  wasting  my  time — which  means,  though 
he  didn't  know  it,  going  about  with  you.  My  father  said 
stoutly  that  he  did  not  think  the  time  was  altogether 
wasted,  for  that  in  the  last  two  years  I  had  made  a  nota- 
ble advance  in  learning,  and  he  was  satisfied  that  I  had 
benefited  much  by  these  intervals  of  recreation.  There- 
upon my  grandfather  grumbled  that  I  was  too  fond  of 
reading,  and  that  I  was  filling  my  mind  with  all  sorts  of 
nonsense,  whereas  true  wisdom  was  to  be  found  in  one 
book  only. 

"My  father  said  that  was  true  of  religious  wisdom,  but 
that  for  the  advancement  of  the  world  it  was  needed  that 
men  should  learn  other  things.  Of  course  my  grand- 
father had  three  or  four  texts  ready  at  hand;  but  my 
father  had  him  by  saying:  'You  see,  father,  all  the  com- 
mands issued  to  the  Jews  are  not  strictly  applicable  to  us 
— for  example,  they  were  ordered  not  to  use  horses;  and 
I  do  not  remember  that  Cromwell  felt  that  he  was  doing 
wrong  when  he  raised  his  ironsides. '  That  was  a  poser, 
and  so  the  matter  dropped." 

Ten  days  later,  when  the  boys  met,  John  said: 

"This  is  the  last  time  we  shall  meet  for  some  time, 
Walter,  for  I  am  going  up  to  Derry  to  stay  with  a  cousin 
of  my  father  who  is  settled  there  and  exercises  the  trade 
of  a  currier.  I  said  some  months  ago  that  I  should  like 


ORANGE  AND  QREEN.  83 

to  learn  a  trade,  but  every  one  was  against  it  then ;  they 
seemed  to  think  that,  as  I  should  some  day  have  the  land, 
it  was  flying  in  the  face  of  Providence  to  think  of  any- 
thing else.  But  I  suppose  the  fact  that  everything  is  so 
unsettled  now,  and  that  there  is  no  saying  what  may 
come  of  these  events  in  England,  may  have  made  them 
think  differently. 

"At  any  rate  my  father  said  to  me  yesterday:  'We 
have  been  talking  over  what  you  said  about  wishing  to 
learn  a  trade.  If  all  goes  on  well  there  is  no  occasion  for 
you  to  learn  any  business  save  that  of  farming;  but  none 
can  say  what  the  Lord  may  not  have  in  store  for  us,  or 
what  troubles  may  come  upon  us.  In  any  case  it  will  do 
you  no  harm  to  see  a  little  of  the  world  outside  our  farm; 
and  therefore  your  grandfather  and  I  have  settled  that 
you  shall  go  for  a  few  months  to  my  cousin,  who,  as  you 
know,  is  a  currier  in  Derry.  He  has  often  written  asking 
you  to  go  and  stay  with  him,  seeing  that  he  has  no  chil- 
dren of  his  own.  Learn  what  you  can  of  his  business; 
and  if  it  should  be  that  you  find  it  more  to  your  liking 
than  farming,  I  should  not  be  one  to  hold  you  back  from 
following  the  bent  of  your  inclinations. 

"  'But  this  is  between  ourselves.  My  father's  ideas  on 
these  subjects  you  know,  and  it  would  cause  much 
trouble  did  he  think  that  you  had  any  idea  of  not  follow- 
ing in  the  path  in  which  he  and  I  have  trod.  But  to  me 
it  seems  better  that  each  should  go  on  the  path  toward 
which  his  mind  is  turned — that  is,  when  he  has  made 
quite  sure,  after  long  reflection  and  prayer,  that  it  is  no 
idle  whim  but  a  settled,  earnest  desire.  If,  then,  after 
your  visit  to  your  uncle  you  feel  that  you  are  truly  called 
to  follow  a  life  other  than  that  you  would  lead  here,  I 
shall  not  oppose  you.  The  Lord  has  blessed  our  labors, 
the  land  is  fertile,  and  I  can  well  provide  the  moneys 
that  will  be  needful  to  start  you  either  in  business  with 
my  cousin,  or  in  such  way  as  may  appear  best.* 


* 
84  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"I  thanked  him  gravely,  but,  indeed,  Walter,  I  had 
difficulty  in  restraining  myself  from  shouting  with  joy, 
for  a  life  like  that  of  my  father  and  grandfather  here 
would  be  very  grievous  to  me.  I  have  no  desire  to  gain 
greater  wealth  than  we  have,  but  I  long  for  a  higher  life 
than  this." 

"I  don't  know,  John/'  Walter  said  doubtfully.  "Un- 
less, as  you  say,  these  troubles  make  a  difference,  you 
will  be  a  large  land-owner  some  day;  and  these  bitter- 
nesses will  die  out  in  time,  and  you  will  take  a  very  dif- 
ferent position  from  that  which  your  grandfather  holds. 
Of  course  we  regard  him  as  a  usurper,  but  you  know  in 
the  third  generation  the  grandson  of  a  usurper  becomes 
a  legitimate  monarch.  My  ancestors  usurped  the  land 
from  the  native  Irish  by  the  sword,  just  as  your  grand- 
father did  from  us;  but  we  came  in  time  to  be  regarded 
as  the  natural  lords  of  the  soil,  and  so  will  you.  But  to 
be  a  currier! — that  strikes  me  as  a  tremendous  come 
down!" 

"I  care  nothing  about  coming  up  or  coming  down," 
John  said  simply;  "I  long  only  for  an  honest  mode  of 
life,  in  which,  instead  of  dwelling  solitary,  and  seeing  no 
one  from  year  to  year  save  at  our  Sabbath  meetings,  I 
may  mix  with  others  and  take  part  in  a  more  active  and 
busy  life.  In  itself  I  do  not  suppose  that  the  trade  of  a 
currier  is  a  very  pleasant  one;  but  that  matters  little  if 
when  work  is  done  one  has  leisure  for  some  sort  of  com- 
munication with  others  and  for  improving  one's  mind. 
It  will  be  to  me  something  like  what  going  to  court  in 
London  would  be  to  you,  Walter.  I  am  most  grieved 
about  my  mother;  she  will  miss  me  sorely. 

"She  said  to  me  last  night,  'I  fear  somewhat,  John, 
that  the  course  I  have  taken  with  you  has  greatly  unfitted 
you  for  settling  down  here  as  we  have  done  before  you; 
but  although  I  shall  miss  you  sadly,  I  do  not  blame  my- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEK.  35 

telf  for  what  I  have  done.  I  think  myself,  my  son,  that 
there  are  higher  lives  than  that  spent  in  tilling  the  soil  from 
boyhood  to  old  age.  It  is  true  the  soil  must  be  tilled. 
There  must  be  ever  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of 
water;  but  God  has  appointed  for  each  his  place,  and  I 
think,  my  son,  that  you  have  that  within  you  which 
would  render  the  life  with  which  your  father  and  grand- 
father have  been  well-contented  an  irksome  one  for  you. 
I  have  no  fear  that  we  shall  be  always  separated. 
Your  grandfather  is  an  old  man,  and  when  the  Lord 
pleases  to  take  him,  your  father  and  I  will  be  free  to  do 
as  we  choose,  and  can,  if  we  like,  dispose  of  this  land  and 
quit  this  troubled  country  and  settle  in  England  or  else- 
where near  where  you  may  be.  It  is  true  that  we  shall 
get  little  for  the  land;  for,  broad  as  are  its  acres,  who  will 
give  much  for  a  doubtful  title?  But  there  is  ample  laid 
by  for  our  old  age,  and  I  see  not  the  sense  of  laboring  in- 
cessantly, as  does  your  grandfather,  merely  to  lay  up 
stores  which  you  will  never  enjoy.  Did  I  see  any  signs 
of  a  decrease  in  the  bitter  animosity  which  parties  feel 
toward  each  other  here  I  might  think  differently;  but 
there  is  no  prospect  of  peace  and  good-will  returning  in 
your  time,  and  therefore  no  object  in  your  father  and  I 
toiling  on  for  the  rest  of  our  lives  when  the  return  of  our 
labor  will  be  of  little  worth  to  you.  Such  being  so,  I  do 
not  regret  that  your  thoughts  turn  to  the  world  of  which 
you  have  read  in  books.  The  world  is  but  a  secondary 
consideration  to  us,  'tis  true,  but  I  can  see  no  special 
goodness  in  a  life  of  dull  monotony.'  " 

"I  wonder  where  your  mother  got  hold  of  her  ideas, 
John;  she  is  so  different  from  most  of  your  people?" 

"She  is  indeed,"  John  agreed.  "It  was  from  her 
mother  that  she  received  her  teaching.  I  know  she  was 
not  happy  with  her  husband,  who  was  as  gloomy  and 
fanatical  as  is  my  grandfather,  and  she  ever  looked  back 


96  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

to  the  happy  days  of  her  girlhood  in  England.  I  think 
she  did  for  my  mother  jnst  what  my  mother  has  done  for 
me,  only  the  difference  is  that  she  never  had  sufficient 
influence  with  her  husband  to  enable  her  to  carry  out  her 
views  for  her  daughter,  while  my  mother " 

"Has  managed  to  have  her  own  way,"  Walter  laughed. 

"I  suppose  so,  and  that  in  spite  of  my  grandfather. 
Certainly  I  owe  everything  to  her,  for  I  am  sure  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  her  my  father  would  never  have  ventured 
to  oppose  the  old  man,  even  so  far  as  to  let  me  know  you. 
It  makes  one  sad  to  think,  Walter,  that  religion  should 
sometimes  make  those  who  think  most  of  it  tyrants  in 
their  families.  My  grandfather  is  terribly  earnest  in  his 
religion.  There  is  no  pretense  or  mistake  about  it;  but, 
for  all  that,  or  rather  because  of  it,  he  would,  if  he  could, 
allow  no  one  else  to  have  a  will  or  opinion  of  his  own. " 

"I  don't  think  it's  the  religion,  John,  but  the  manner 
of  the  religion.  My  mother  and  grandmother  are  both 
as  religious  as  any  one  could  be;  but  I  don't  think  I  ever 
heard  either  of  them  say  a  hard  word  of  a  soul.  Their 
religion  is  a  pleasure  to  them  and  not  a  task,  and  I  know 
that  some  years  ago,  when  we  had  a  priest  who  was  al- 
ways denouncing  the  Protestants,  they  very  soon  man- 
aged to  get  him  changed  for  another.  What  a  funny 
thing  it  is,  to  be  sure,  that  people  should  quarrel  about 
their  religion!  After  all,  we  believe  all  the  same  impor- 
tant things;  and  as  to  others,  what  does  it  matter,  pro- 
vided we  all  do  our  best  in  the  way  that  seems  right  to 
us?" 

But  this  was  too  liberal  for  John.  He  had  been 
brought  up  in  too  strait  a  sect  to  subscribe  to  such  an 
opinion  as  this. 

"I  do  think  it  makes  a  difference,  Walter,"  he  said 
slowly. 

"I  don't,"  Walter  said;  "it's  just  a  matter  of  bringing 


OEANGS  AND  GREEN.  37 

up.  If  you  had  been  born  in  the  Castle,  and  I  had  been 
born  in  your  place,  you  would  have  thought  as  I  do,  and 
I  should  have  thought  as  you  do;  and  of  course  still 
more  if  you  had  been  born  in  a  Catholic  country  like 
Italy,  where  you  would  never  have  heard  of  Protestant- 
ism, and  I  had  been  born  in  a  Protestant  country  like 
Holland,  where  I  should  never  have  had  a  chance  of  be- 
coming a  Catholic.  Very  few  people  ever  change  their 
religion;  they  just  live  and  die  as  they  have  been  born 
and  educated." 

"It  seems  so,"  John  said  after  a  pause;  "but  the  ques- 
tion is  too  deep  for  us." 

"Quite  so,"  Walter  laughed,  "and  I  don't  want  to 
argue  it.  Well,  when  are  you  going  to  start?" 

"I  am  off  to-morrow  morning.  My  father  has  an  ac- 
quaintance in  Dublin  who  is  starting  for  Derry,  and  I  am 
to  go  in  his  charge." 

For  another  hour  the  boys  chatted  together,  and  then 
with  mutual  promises  of  writing  regularly,  whenever 
they  had  the  chance,  they  said  good-by,  and  the  follow- 
ing morning  John  started  with  his  father  to  Dublin,  and 
next  day  journeyed  north  toward  Derry. 


ORANGE  AND  GREW. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   KING    IN    IRELAND. 

ON  the  12th  of  November  a  vessel  arrived  in  Dublin 
with  the  news  that  William  of  Orange  had  landed  at 
Torbay  on  the  5th.  The  news  created  the  wildest  excite- 
ment. The  Protestants,  who  had  been  deeply  depressed 
by  the  apparent  intention  of  James  to  hand  back  to  their 
original  owners  the  land  which  had  been  wrested  from 
them,  now  took  heart  and  began  openly  to  arm.  Upon 
the  other  hand,  the  Catholics  felt  that  if  William  and  the 
Whigs  succeeded  to  the  chief  power  in  England  their 
faith,  their  remaining  property,  and  their  lives  were 
alike  menaced,  and  they,  too,  prepared  to  fight  to  the 
last  for  all  they  held  dear. 

Walter  rode  several  times  with  his  father  into  Dublin. 
The  streets  presented  a  strange  spectacle.  They  were 
crowded  with  Protestant  fugitives  from  the  country  dis- 
tricts. These  had  forsaken  all  and  flocked  into  Dublin, 
fearing  that  the  Irish  would  retaliate  for  past  grievances 
by  a  general  massacre.  The  banks  of  the  Liffey  were 
crowded  by  these  fugitives,  who  with  tears  and  cries  be- 
sought the  captains  of  the  vessels  lying  there  to  give 
them  passage  to  England. 

All  sorts  of  rumors  of  bloodshed,  massacre,  and  de- 
struction circulated  through  the  city.  The  Protestants 
in  the  north  were  said  to  have  fallen  upon  the  Catholic 
population  and  to  have  put  them  to  the  sword,  while  in 
the  south  and  west  it  was  said  the  Catholics  had  taken 


ORANGE  AND  QREEN.  39 

the  same  measures  against  the  Protestants.  Both  reports 
v/ere  equally  false,  but  they  were  generally  believed,  and 
added  to  the  panic  and  dismay.  In  fact,  however,  both 
parties  were  waiting.  The  Protestants  dared  not  com- 
mence hostilities  until  assured  that  William  was  firmly 
seated  on  the  English  throne  and  ready  to  come  to  their 
assistance;  the  Catholics  were  equally  desirous  to  main- 
tain the  peace  until  assured  that  no  hope  remained  save 
the  sword. 

A  month  after  John  Whitefoot  had  left,  Walter  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  him: 

"DEAR  FRIEHD  WALTER:  You  will  have  heard,  no 
doubt,  of  the  troubles  that  have  arisen  here.  My  father 
sent  me  here  to  learn  a  trade,  but  at  present  all  men's 
minds  are  so  agitated  that  there  is  no  talk  save  of  arms 
and  of  fighting.  My  kinsman  is  as  bad  as  the  others. 
He  spends  the  day  going  hither  and  thither  among  the 
townsfolk,  and  has  been  made  an  officer  in  one  of  the  six 
companies  which  have  been  raised  here,  and  pays  no  fur- 
ther heed  to  business.  The  town  is  mightily  divided: 
the  younger  and  more  zealous  spirits  are  all  for  fighting, 
while  almost  all  the  older  and  wealthier  citizens  are  op- 
posed to  this. 

"This  is  how  the  trouble  began.  The  Earl  of  Tyrcon- 
nell  sent,  as  you  know,  three  thousand  soldiers  to  help 
King  James  at  the  first  news  of  the  landing  of  the  prince 
and  to  do  so  he  withdrew  the  regiment  which  was  in  gar- 
rison in  this  town.  On  the  7th  of  this  month  of  Decem- 
ber the  people  here  heard  that  the  regiment  of  the  Earl 
of  Antrim  was  approaching  the  town  to  take  the  place  of 
those  troops.  When  the  news  arrived  there  was  a  sort  of 
panic  in  the  town  and  the  news  was  spread  that  uhis  regi- 
ment was  intended  to  massacre  the  people. 

"Why  this  should  be  I  do  not  know  and  I  cannot  but 
think  that  the  alarm  was  a  false  one;  however,  the  regi- 
ment arrived  on  the  river  bank,  and  some  of  its  officers 
crossed  and  entered  the  city.  When  they  were  in  coun- 
cil with  some  of  the  leading  citizens  a  party  of  appren- 
tices, with  some  of  the  rabble,  shut  the  gates.  For  some 
time  there  was  great  debate.  The  older  citizens  were 


40  ORANGE  AND  QREJ3&. 

mostly  in  favor  of  admitting  the  earl's  regiment.  Why, 
they  asked,  should  Derry  alone  defy  the  power  of  Tyrcon- 
nell  and  King  James?  If  King  William  made  his  cause 
good  and  came  over  to  Ireland  to  aid  the  Protestants,  it 
would  be  time  enough  for  the  men  of  Derry  to  join  him 
and  to  fight  for  their  faith;  but  if  they  now  stood  alone 
they  could  do  no  good  to  the  cause  of  King  William,  and 
would  bring  destruction  on  themselves  and  their  city. 

"But  these  arguments  were  of  no  avail.  The  appren- 
tices and  all  the  young  men  of  the  town,  and  the  fugi- 
tives who  had  come  in  from  the  country  round,  were  all 
for  fighting,  and  so  the  gates  were  kept  shut;  and  Lord 
Antrim,  seeing  that  he  could  do  nothing  against  such  a 
strong  place  as  Derry,  marched  away  with  his  regiment. 
This  seems  to  me  a  fair  account  of  what  has  happened. 
What  will  come  of  it  I  know  not;  but,  being  a  Protestant, 
my  feelings  would  incline  me  to  the  side  of  William.  Yet 
it  seems  to  me  that  his  friends  here  have  acted  hastily  in 
thus  adventuring  themselves  against  all  the  forces  of 
King  James,  ana  that  sore  trouble  is  like  to  come  upon 
the  town.  However,  it  is  not  for  me  to  judge.  I  am  as 
warm  as  any  of  them  in  defense  of  our  religion,  and  shall 
try  to  do  my  best  in  case  of  need.  I  am  sorry,  dear 
Walter,  that  we  have  to  take  different  sides  in  this  quar- 
rel, but  of  course  we  are  each  of  the  opinion  of  our 
elders,  and  must  not  blame  each  other  for  what  is  indeed 
not  of  pur  own  choosing. 

"This  is  a  fair  city,  standing  on  rising  ground  by  a 
stately  river,  and  with  strong  walls;  and  at  any  other 
time  life  would  be  very  pleasant  here,  although  living 
among  so  many  people  seems  strange  to  me  after  my  life 
on  the  farm.  I  hear  all  sorts  of  tales  about  fighting  in 
other  parts,  and  of  the  slaughter  of  Protestants  by  Rap- 
parees,  but  know  not  whether  they  are  true.  As  my 
cousin,  who  is  an  earnest  man,  is  wholly  taken  up  with 
the  present  affairs,  and  all  business  is  at  a  stand,  I  have 
little  to  do,  and  spend  much  of  my  time  by  the  riverside, 
and  have  taken  to  fishing,  which  I  like  mightily,  and  yes- 
terday I  caught  a  fish  weighing  three  pounds,  and  we 
had  him  for  dinner.  I  often  wish  you  were  with  me. 
Write  me  a  long  letter  and  tell  me  all  that  you  are  doing. 
"Your  affectionate  friend, 

"JOHN  WHITBFOOT." 


ORANGE  AND  GREEK.  41 

Indeed,  throughout  all  Ireland  preparations  for  war 
were  going  on.  All  over  the  north  the  Protestants  were 
banding  themselves  in  arms;  and,  under  the  excuse  of 
some  outrages  committed  by  a  few  isolated  parties  of  peas- 
ants known  as  Kapparees,  were  everywhere  harrying  the 
Catholics,  carrying  fire  and  sword  into  quiet  villages, 
burning,  slaying,  and  carrying  off  their  grain  and  cattle. 
Throughout  the  whole  of  Ulster,  Charlemont  and  Car- 
rickfergus  alone  remained  in  the  hands  of  King  James* 
troops. 

England  and  Scotland  had  now  accepted  William  as 
their  king,  and  James  had  fled  to  France.  With  the 
exception  of  Ulster,  Ireland  remained  stanch  to  King 
James.  In  the  south  Lord  Inshiquin,  and  in  Connaught 
Lord  Kingston,  had  each  raised  corps  among  the  Prot- 
estants settlers  for  William,  and  were  the  first  to  com- 
mence hostilities,  and  the  latter,  marching  north,  made 
an  attack  on  Carrickfergus. 

Tyrconnell  now  issued  commissions  to  several  of  the 
Catholic  nobility  and  gentry  to  raise  troops  for  the  king's 
service,  and  as  the  people  responded  to  the  call  readily 
some  fifty  regiments  of  foot  and  several  troops  of  horse 
were  soon  raised.  But  though  men  were  forthcoming  in 
abundance,  there  was  a  great  want  of  arms  and  all  muni- 
tions of  war.  There  were  in  the  government  stores  only 
twenty  thousand  arms,  and  most  of  these  were  old  weap- 
ons that  had  been  returned  to  store  as  unserviceable,  and 
only  about  a  thousand  muskets  were  found  to  be  of  any 
use.  There  was  no  artillery  or  ammunition,  and  no 
money  with  which  these  necessaries  could  be  purchased 
abroad.  The  gentry  would  have  willingly  contributed, 
but  all  had  been  well-nigh  ruined  by  the  confiscation  of 
their  property,  and  could  do  little  toward  filling  the 
treasury. 

Never  did  a  nation  enter  upon  a  war  go  badly  provided 


48  ORANGE  AUTD  GREEN. 

with  all  necessaries  as  did  Ireland  when  she  resolved  to 
adhere  to  the  cause  of  her  king  and  to  resist  the  power 
of  England  and  Scotland,  aided  by  that  of  Holland  and 
the  Protestant  States  of  Germany. 

Mr.  Davenant  had  been  one  of  the  first  to  respond  to 
the  invitation  of  Tyrconnell,  and  had  set  about  raising  a 
troop  of  horse.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  getting  the  num- 
ber of  men  in  Bray  and  the  surrounding  villages,  and  the 
difficulty  in  mounting  them  was  overcome  by  the  patriot- 
ism of  sundry  gentlemen  and  citizens  of  Dublin,  who 
willingly  contributed  their  spare  horses  to  the  king's 
service. 

Their  arms  were  various.  Some  had  swords,  some 
Bhort  pikes,  while  a  few  only  had  pistols;  but  the  smiths 
everywhere  toiled  hard  converting  scythes  and  reaping- 
hooks  into  swords  and  pikes,  and  before  they  were  ready 
to  take  the  field  the  whole  troop  were  provided  with 
swords.  Walter  had  eagerly  begged  his  father  to  ap- 
point him  cornet  of  the  troop,  and  Mr.  Davenant  might 
have  yielded  had  it  not  been  for  his  wife's  entreaties. 
Even  old  Mrs.  Davenant,  intensely  loyal  as  she  was  to 
the  cause  of  James,  sided  with  her  daughter-in-law. 

"Of  course,  Fergus,  you  will  do  your  duty  to  the  king. 
It  would  indeed  be  a  shame  for  a  Davenant  to  hold  back; 
but  at  Walter's  age  there  can  be  no  occasion  for  him,  as 
yet,  to  take  a  commission.  I  am  ready  to  give  my  son  as 
I  gave  my  husband  to  the  king;  and  when  Walter  be- 
comes a  man  he  too  must  go  if  duty  demands  it;  but  for 
the  present,  assuredly  there  is  no  reason  why  such  a  boy 
should  mix  himself  up  in  this  unhappy  struggle.  Be- 
sides, if  aught  befalls  you  it  is  to  him  that  his  mother 
will  have  to  look  in  the  future.  There  are  hundreds 
and  thousands  of  strong  and  active  men  in  Ireland,  and 
the  necessity  has  not  yet  come  for  boys  to  take  the  field/' 

So  Walter,  to  his  intense  disappointment,  was  refused 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  '    43 

the  cornetcy  of  the  troop,  but  his  father,  who  fully  en- 
tered into  his  feelings,  finally  told  him  that  when  the 
troop  took  the  field  he  should  accompany  him. 

"You  are  not  to  carry  arms,  Walter,  or  to  mix  yourself 
up  in  any  way  with  it.  You  will  be  a  sort  of  camp-fol- 
lower, you  know;  but  you  will  see  all  that  goes  on,  and 
will  be  able  to  prepare  yourself  to  take  your  place  in  the 
ranks  if  the  war  should  unhappily  go  on  for  any  time." 

With  this  Walter  had  to  be  satisfied;  and,  indeed,  al- 
though somewhat  disappointed  at  not  being  at  once 
allowed  to  join  the  troop,  he  felt  sure  that  it  would  not 
be  very  long  before  his  father,  once  away  from  the  influ- 
ence of  his  wife  and  mother,  would  allow  him  to  join. 

"May  I  take  Larry  with  me,  father?  He  would  look 
after  my  horse,  and  would  be  useful  to  you  for  running 
messages  and  all  sorts  of  things.  He  wants  to  go  very 
much;  you  see  his  uncle  and  two  or  three  of  his  cousins 
have  joined  the  troop,  and  he  would  have  joined  too  if 
you  had  not  thought  him  too  young." 

"The  worst  of  you  and  Larry  is,  that  you  are  always 
getting  into  some  scrape  together,"  Mr.  Davenant  said 
with  a  smile. 

"But  I  should  not  get  into  scrapes  on  such  a  business 
as  this,"  Walter  said  indignantly.  "This  is  a  serious 
affair,  and  of  course  going  with  you  I  should  be  very 
particular." 

"Yes,  as  long  as  I  was  close  by,  Walter;  however,  I 
don't  mind  your  taking  Larry;  he  would,  as  you  say,  be 
useful,  and  you  will  want  somebody  to  look  after  your 
horse  and  act  as  your  servant.  We  may  be  separated 
sometimes,  for  the  troop  may  be  sent  on  detached  service 
when  I  could  not  take  you  with  me." 

The  permission  to  take  Larry  quite  reconciled  Walter 
to  the  downfall  of  his  hopes  of  going  as  cornet,  and  in 
high  spirits  he  hastened  down  to  the  village  to  tell  Larry 
that  his  father  had  consented  to  his  accompanying  him. 


44  OEAN&B  AND  GREEN. 

All  through  January  Mr.  Davenant  was  busy  drilling 
his  troop.  Throughout  all  Ireland  both  parties  were  pre- 
paring for  the  storm  which  was  soon  to  burst.  Lord 
Mountjoy,  a  Protestant  nobleman,  was  sent  with  his  regi- 
ment, which  consisted  for  the  most  part  of  Protestants, 
to  Derry.  He  held  a  meeting  with  the  leading  towns- 
people, who  agreed  to  admit  the  Protestant  soldiers,  upon 
the  condition  that  no  more  troops  were  sent.  Accord- 
ingly, the  Protestant  troops,  under  Colonel  Lundy, 
entered  the  town,  and  Lord  Mountjoy  assumed  the  gov- 
ernorship. 

Tyrconnell  soon  perceived  that  he  had  made  a  mistake 
in  sending  Mountjoy  to  Derry,  for  instead  of  overawing 
the  inhabitants,  his  regiment  had  in  fact  become  a  part 
of  the  rebel  garrison;  he  therefore  recalled  Mountjoy  and 
sent  him  over  to  France  on  the  pretense  of  an  embassy 
to  King  James,  but  as  soon  as  he  arrived  there  he  was 
treacherously  thrown  into  prison. 

The  people  of  Derry  received  quantities  of  powder  and 
arms  from  Scotland,  and  on  the  20th  of  February  the 
Prince  of  Orange  was  formally  proclaimed  king  in  Derry; 
and  this  example  was  followed  throughout  Ulster.  This 
was,  in  fact,  the  beginning  of  the  war.  Anxious  to  save 
Ireland  from  the  horrors  of  civil  war,  Lord  Granard  and 
other  Protestant  noblemen  of  the  council  joined  Tyrcon- 
nell in  issuing  a  proclamation,  ordering  the  Protestant 
corps  to  lay  down  their  arms;  and  as  they  did  not  obey, 
Lieutenant-General  Hamilton  was  dispatched  to  the  north 
with  a  thousand  regular  troops  and  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  irregulars. 

These  came  up  with  the  insurgents  at  Dromore,  and 
defeated  them  with  great  slaughter.  They  rallied  at 
Hillsborough,  but  again  were  defeated  and  scattered. 
Hamilton  divided  his  force,  and  marching  through  the 
north  reduced  Ulster  to  submission,  with  the  exception 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  45 

only  of  the  fortified  towns  of  Enniskillen  and  Berry.  In 
the  south  General  McCarty  was  equally  successful  in 
clearing  Munster  of  William's  adherents,  and  defeated 
Lord  Inshiquin  in  every  encounter. 

On  the  14th  of  March  Mr.  Davenant,  who  had  ridden 
into  Dublin,  returned  in  the  evening  with  the  news  that 
the  king  had  landed  at  Kinsale  two  days  before,  with 
fifteen  hundred  Irish  troops  in  the  pay  of  France,  and  a 
hundred  French  officers,  intended  to  aid  in  drilling  the 
new  levies. 

"I  am  glad,  indeed,  that  he  has  arrived,  for  had  he 
been  met  on  the  seas  by  the  English  fleet  all  our  hopes 
might  have  been  dashed  at  a  blow.  Now  that  he  is  with 
us  it  will  rouse  the  enthusiasm  of  the  people  to  the  ut- 
most. If  he  is  wise  he  will  surely  be  able  to  unite  all 
Ireland  under  him,  save  of  course  the  fanatics  of  the 
north,  who,  however,  can  do  nothing  against  the  whole 
strength  of  the  country,  since  Hamilton's  little  force 
alone  has  been  sufficient  to  put  down  all  opposition,  save 
where  they  remain  shut  up  behind  the  walls  of  Derryand 
Enniskillen.  It  is  not  with  them  that  we  have  to  cope 
alone — they  would  be  utterly  powerless — it  is  with  the 
army  of  England  and  Scotland  we  shall  have  to  fight. 
Unfortunately  we  have  no  fleet,  and  they  can  land  wher- 
ever they  choose;  but  now  the  king  is  really  among  us, 
all  who  have  hitherto  wavered  will  join.  Let  England 
and  Scotland  choose  their  king  as  they  will,  but  there  is 
no  reason  why  Ireland  should  desert  its  rightful  monarch 
at  their  bidding." 

''When  will  the  king  arrive  at  Dublin,  father:" 

"He  goes  first  to  Cork,  Walter;  Tyrconnell  has  set  out, 
and  will  meet  him  there.  They  say  he  will  be  here  in 
about  ten  days'  time.  The  French  ambassador,  the  Mar- 
quis d'Avaux,  comes  with  him,  and  many  French  nobles." 

"Do  you  think,  father,  he  will  at  once  order  that  his 


46  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

friends  shall  receive  the  land  again  which  was  taken  from 
them  by  Cromwell's  soldiers?" 

"I  hope  not,  my  boy.  It  is  his  interest  and  not  our 
own  we  must  think  of  now;  and  if  Ireland  is  to  resist 
successfully  the  English  and  continental  troops  of  Dutch 
William,  we  must  be  united — we  must  be  Irishmen  first, 
Catholics  and  Protestants  afterward.  I  trust  that  he 
will  issue  such  proclamations  as  will  allay  the  alarm  of 
the  Protestants  and  bind  us  all  together. 

"King  James  is  not  like  his  father.  In  no  single  case 
since  he  came  to  the  throne  has  he  broken  his  royal  word 
once  given;  therefore  all  may  feel  confidence  in  any 
promises  he  may  make.  I  have,  of  course,  no  hope  that 
anything  he  can  say  will  influence  the  fanatics  of  Derry 
and  Enniskillen,  but  we  can  afford  to  disregard  them. 
They  are  entailing  misery  and  suffering  upon  themselves 
without  the  slightest  benefit  to  the  cause  they  advocate. 
If  we  beat  the  English,  of  course  those  places  must 
finally  surrender;  if  the  English  beat  us,  they  will  get 
their  Dutch  William  as  king,  without  any  effort  on  their 
part.  I  think  myself  that  it  will  be  very  unwise  to  at- 
tempt anything  against  those  two  places.  The  people 
there  can  shut  themselves  up  in  their  walls  as  long  as 
they  like,  and  by  so  doing  can  in  no  way  harm  us.  If  we 
take  their  towns  it  will  only  add  to  the  bad  blood  that 
already  exists.  Better  by  far  leave  them  to  themselves, 
until  the  main  battle  is  fought  out." 

On  the  23d  the  news  came  that  the  king  was  to  arrive 
in  Dublin  the  next  day,  and  Mr.  Davenant,  or,  as  he  was 
now  called,  Captain  Davenant,  went  over  with  all  the 
gentry  of  the  neighborhood  to  meet  him. 

King  James  was  received  with  enthusiasm.  Addresses 
were  presented  to  him  by  the  several  public  bodies  and 
by  the  clergy  of  the  Established  Church.  His  answer  to 
these  addresses  gave  satisfaction  to  all.  He  promised 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  47 

favor  and  protection  to  the  Established  Protestant 
Church;  issued  an  invitation  to  the  Protestants  who  had 
fled  the  kingdom  to  return  to  their  homes,  and  assured 
them  of  safety  and  his  particular  care;  and  he  com- 
manded that,  with  the  exception  of  the  military,  no 
Catholics  should  carry  arms  in  Dublin.  Finally,  he  sum- 
moned a  parliament  to  meet  him  in  Dublin  on  the  7th  of 
May. 

One  day  a  messenger  arrived  with  a  dispatch  for  Cap- 
tain Davenant. 

"We  are  to  move  into  Dublin  to-morrow,  Walter, "  he 
said  when  he  read  it.  "We  are  to  take  the  field  at  once; 
the  king  himself  is  going  to  march  in  command  of  us 
against  Derry.  I  think  his  majesty  is  wrong;  and  I 
know  that  Tyrconnell  has  argued  strongly  against  his  in- 
tention. There  are  three  reasons  against  it.  First,  as  I 
told  you,  I  think  it  were  better  to  leave  Derry  alone 
until  the  main  issue  is  settled;  secondly,  King  James  has 
no  military  experience  whatever,  and  if  aught  goes  wrong 
with  the  expedition  he  will  lose  prestige;  thirdly,  al- 
though it  were  well  for  him  to  be  with  the  army  when  it 
fights  a  foreign  foe,  it  were  better  that  he  should  not  lead 
it  against  men  who  are,  however  much  they  may  rebel 
against  him,  his  own  subjects. 

"I  know  Tyrconnell  has  set  forth  these  objections  to 
him;  but  unhappily  obstinacy  is  a  fault  of  all  the  Stuart 
race,  and  it  generally  happens  that  they  are  most  obsti- 
nate when  most  wrong.  However,  I  trust  that  when 
Derry  sees  so  strong  a  force  marching  against  it,  it  will 
open  its  gates  without  resistance.  A  siege  can  only  en- 
tail horrible  suffering  on  the  town;  and  that  suffering 
will  in  the  end  tell  against  James'  cause,  for  it  will  excite 
the  sympathy  of  the  Protestants  in  England  and  Scotland 
and  make  them  all  the  hotter  to  conquer  Ireland." 

The  following  day  the  troop  was  mustered  in  front  of 


48  ORANGE  AND  OREEN. 

the  castle,  and,  after  a  tender  farewell  to  his  wife  and 
mother,  Captain  Davenant  placed  himself  at  their  head 
and  rode  off.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  Walter,  with 
Larry  Doolan  on  a  rough  little  pony  by  his  side,  rode 
after  the  troop.  Dublin  was  reached  in  the  afternoon. 
The  town  presented  a  festive  appearance;  the  principal 
streets  were  still  draped  with  the  flags  which  had  been 
hung  out  at  the  king's  entry  five  days  before.  The 
streets  were  thronged  with  people,  for  loyalists  had  come 
in  from  all  parts  of  the  country  to  welcome  the  king. 

Large  numbers  of  men  belonging  to  the  newly  raised 
regiments  wandered  among  the  crowd,  and  with  these 
were  mingled  the  French  uniforms  of  the  Irish  troops 
who  had  come  over  with  James.  The  troop  was  loudly 
cheered  by  the  crowd  as  it  passed  through  the  town  to 
the  spot  assigned  to  it  in  the  camp  of  the  force  gathered 
near  the  city.  Walter  and  Larry  rode  a  short  distance 
behind  the  troop,  and  joined  it  as  soon  as  it  reached  the 
ground  allotted  to  it. 

"It  was  a  brave  sight,  father,  was  it  not,  to  see  the  city 
decked  out  and  all  the  people  cheering  for  the  king? 
Dublin  is  setting  a  fine  example — isn't  it?" 

"You  must  not  set  much  weight  upon  the  cheering  of 
a  crowd,  Walter.  I  do  not  say  that  the  people  of  Dublin 
may  not  at  the  present  moment  be  loyal  to  the  king;  but 
if  he  were  defeated  and  William  were  to  march  in,  you 
would  see  that  they  would  cheer  him  just  as  heartily. 
The  mob  of  London  cheered  King  James  as  he  passed 
through  it  a  week  before  he  was  so  ill  advised  as  to  fly, 
and  they  threw  up  their  hats  for  joy  a  fortnight  later  for 
William.  No,  my  boy — there  is  no  dependence  on  a 
mob.  They  worship  success,  and  the  king  who  is  present 
is  sure  to  be  vastly  more  dear  to  them  than  the  king  who 
is  absent.  And  now  you  had  better  help  Larry  picket 
your  horses.  Put  them  by  the  side  of  mine.  See  how 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  49 

the  troopers  fasten  theirs,  and  do  yours  the  same.  When 
that  is  done  send  Larry  to  get  hold  of  some  wood  and 
light  a  fire;  it  will  be  cold  when  the  sun  goes  down.  As 
for  food,  we  have  brought  enough  with  us  for  to-night; 
to-morrow,  I  suppose,  we  shall  get  rations/' 

Captain  Davenant  now  posted  a  certain  number  of  men 
to  look  after  the  horses,  and  the  rest  set  off  to  cut  fire- 
wood; and  in  an  hour  four  or  five  great  fires  were  blaz- 
ing. Forage  was  served  out  for  the  horses  from  the  stores 
which  had  been  collected,  and  also  a  truss  of  straw  to 
every  three  soldiers  as  bedding.  Walter  had  in  the  mean- 
time strolled  away  among  the  other  camps,  and  was 
greatly  amused  at  the  various  shifts  and  contrivances  that 
the  men  had  made  to  make  themselves  comfortable.  A 
few  only  of  the  officers  had  tents;  for  these,  as  well  as  all 
other  necessaries  of  war,  were  wanting;  and  the  troops, 
who  had  for  some  little  time  been  in  camp  there,  had 
raised  all  sorts  of  shelter  from  the  weather.  Some  had 
constructed  little  huts  of  turf  thatched  with  straw  or 
rushes;  others  had  erected  little  tents,  some  of  sail-cloth 
obtained  from  the  shipping,  others  of  blankets,  coarse 
linen  cloaks,  or  any  other  articles  on  which  they  could 
lay  hands.  All  were  in  high  spirits  at  the  prospect  of 
the  termination  of  the  monotony  of  continued  drill  and 
of  the  commencement  of  active  campaigning.  Huge  fires 
blazed  everywhere,  and  the  country  for  some  distance 
round  had  been  completely  stripped  of  its  wood. 

Everywhere  was  life  and  bustle.  Men  were  cleaning 
their  arms  preparatory  to  the  march  of  next  day;  others 
were  cooking  at  the  fires;  troopers  were  grooming  their 
horses;  snatches  of  song  and  loud  laughter  rose  in  the 
air.  After  wandering  about  for  an  hour  Walter  rejoined 
his  father.  Captain  Davenant  was  sitting  with  the  two 
officers  of  his  troop,  Lieutenant  O'Driscoll  and  Cornet 
Heron,  by  a  fire,  the  materials  for  which  the  three  troop 


50  ORANGE  AND  GREEN". 

era  who  acted  as  their  servants  had  collected.  There 
was  no  cooking  to  be  done,  for  sufficient  cold  provisions 
had  been  brought  with  the  troop. 

"You  are  just  in  time,  Walter,"  his  father  said;  "we 
are  going  to  fall  to  at  once  at  our  meal.  Hand  over  that 
cold  chicken,  Larry;  and  do  you,  Tim  Donelly,  broach 
that  keg  oi'  claret.  Give  me  the  bread,  Fergus — that's 
right.  Now,  gentlemen,  here's  a  hunch  each;  plates  are 
a  luxury  which  we  must  do  without  in  the  field.  Now 
let  us  fall  to." 

Walter  seated  himself  on  a  truss  of  straw  beside  his 
father,  and  thought  he  had  never  enjoyed  a  meal  so  much 
in  his  life  as  the  bread  and  cold  chicken,  eaten  as  they 
were  in  the  open  air  in  front  of  the  crackling  fire.  Each 
was  provided  with  a  horn,  and  these  were  filled  from  the 
keg. 

"Here's  to  the  king,  gentlemen;  success  to  his  arms!" 

All  stood  up  to  drink  the  toast,  and  then  continued 
their  meal.  Three  chickens  vanished  rapidly,  and  the 
troopers  kept  their  horns  filled  with  claret. 

"If  we  always  do  as  well  as  that,"  Captain  Davenant 
said  as  they  finished  the  meal,  "we  shall  have  no  reason 
to  grumble.  But  I  fear  that's  too  much  to  expect. 
Bring  me  my  pipe  and  tobacco,  Larry;  you  will  find  them 
in  the  holsters  of  my  saddle.  Fergus,  do  you  undo  these 
trusses  and  lay  the  straw  out  even — that  will  do.  Now, 
lads,  you  will  find  plenty  more  provisions  in  the  wallet. 
Do  you  go  and  get  your  own  suppers,  then  give  an  eye  to 
the  horses.  We  shall  not  want  anything  more." 

For  two  or  three  hours  the  three  officers  and  Walter 
sat  chatting  by  the  fire,  occasionally  piling  on  fresh  logs. 
Gradually  the  din  of  voices  in  the  camp  died  away  and 
the  bright  fires  burned  down. 

"I  think  we  had  better  turn  in,"  Captain  Davenant 
said  at  last.  "We  must  be  astir  an  hour  before  daylight, 
for  we  march  as  soon  as  it's  light." 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  51 

Rolling  themselves  in  their  long  cloaks,  they  lay  down 
upon  the  straw.  It  was  some  time  before  Walter  got  to 
sleep.  The  novelty  of  the  situation  and  the  strangeness 
of  lying  with  the  night  air  blowing  in  his  face  made  him 
unusually  wakeful.  Occasionally,  too,  a  laugh  from  some 
party  who  were  sitting  late  round  their  fire  attracted  his 
attention,  and  the  sound  of  the  snorting  and  pawing  of 
the  horses  also  kept  him  awake;  but  at  last  he,  too,  went 
off  to  sleep.  In  spite  of  his  warm  cloak  he  felt  stiff  and 
chilled  when  the  sound  of  the  trumpets  and  drums  roused 
the  camp. 

"Well,  Walter,  how  do  you  like  sleeping  in  the  open 
air?"  his  father  said  as  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  shook 
himself. 

"I  don't  mind  the  sleeping,  father,  but  the  waking  is 
not  so  pleasant;  however,  I  shall  soon  get  accustomed  to 
it,  I  suppose.  But  I  always  did  hate  getting  up  in  the 
dark  even  when  we  were  going  out  fishing." 

"You  won't  always  get  as  comfortable  a  bed  as  this, 
Walter;  so  don't  expect  it.  The  time  will  come  ere  long 
when  you  will  look  back  upon  this  as  absolute  luxury. 
We  are  not  likely  to  get  straw  another  night,  I  can  tell 
you.  Now,  Fergus,  bring  that  wallet  here.  We  must 
breakfast  before  we  get  in  the  saddle." 

Walter  came  to  the  conclusion  that  breakfast  eaten  in 
the  dark  was  a  very  inferior  meal  to  dinner  before  a 
great  fire;  however,  he  kept  his  thoughts  to  himself,  and, 
as  soon  as  he  had  finished,  went  to  aid  Larry  in  saddling 
the  horses. 

"I  suppose  I  can  ride  with  you  to-day,  father?"  he 
said  as  he  mounted. 

"Yes;  there  will  not  be  any  military  display  by  the 
way.  Many  of  the  soldiers  have  got  nothing  in  the  way 
of  uniform  at  present.  So  you  can  ride  with  me.  But 
if  any  general  officer  comes  along,  you  must  draw  off  a 


5£  ORANGE  AND  QREEW. 

little  and  drop  behind  with  Larry,  who  will  follow  in  the 
rear  of  the  troop." 

As  soon  as  daylight  appeared  the  bugles  gave  the 
signal,  and  the  force,  preceded  by  its  cavalry,  started  on 
its  march  toward  the  north. 


GRANGE  AND  GREEN.  53 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   SIEGE   OF    DERBY. 

THERE  was  an  air  of  excitement  in  the  streets  of 
Deny.  Knots  of  people  were  gathered  talking  excitedly, 
women  stood  at  the  doors  of  all  the  houses,  while  men 
moved  aimlessly  and  restlessly  about  between  the  groups, 
listened  for  a  time  to  a  speaker,  and  then  moved  on 
again.  The  work  of  strengthening  the  defenses,  which 
had  gone  on  incessantly  for  the  last  three  months,  had 
ceased,  while  numbers  of  persons  were  gathered  on  the 
walls  looking  anxiously  toward  the  south.  A  general  air 
of  gloom  and  despondency  hung  over  the  place;  the 
storm  which  Derry  had  braved  was  gathering  around  it 
at  last.  King  James  and  his  troops  were  advancing 
against  it. 

Opinion  was  strongly  divided  in  the  city;  almost  with- 
out exception  the  older  citizens  deprecated  resistancs. 
The  walls,  indeed,  were  strong  and  the  position  formi- 
dable. The  king  had  no  artillery  worth  speaking  of,  and 
the  walls,  manned  by  brave  men,  might  well  for  a  definite 
time  resist  assault;  but  the  stores  of  food  could  not  long 
support  the  large  population  now  gathered  in  the  town, 
and  there  seemed  no  possibility  whatever  of  assistance 
from  England  before  the  horrors  of  famine  would  be  upon 
them.  To  what  purpose,  then,  oppose  resistance,  which 
must,  even  if  successful^  cause  frightful  sufferings  to  the 
inhabitants,  and  which,  if  unsuccessful,  would  hand  over 
the  city  to  the  vengeance  of  James. 


04  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

The  garrison  had  been  strengthened  by  two  regiments 
and  a  vast  quantity  of  supplies.  But  including  every- 
thing there  were  but  provisions  for  ten  days,  and  as  many 
weeks  might  elapse  before  assistance  could  come.  The 
younger  and  more  ardent  spirits  were  for  resistance  to 
the  last.  "Better,"  they  said,  "die  of  hunger  than  sur- 
render the  Protestant  stronghold  to  the  Papists."  Every 
hour  brought  crowds  of  fugitives,  the  inhabitants  of  all 
the  villages  deserting  their  homes  at  the  approach  of  the 
royal  forces,  and  flying,  with  what  goods  they  could 
carry,  to  Deny. 

Archdeacon  Hamilton  had  arrived  with  a  message  from 
the  king,  offering  that  if  the  city  would,  within  four 
days,  surrender,  there  should  be  an  amnesty  to  all  for 
past  offenses,  and  that  the  property  of  all  the  inhabitants 
should  be  respected.  This  proposition  was  now  being 
considered  by  the  governor  and  his  council,  together  with 
all  the  principal  officers  of  the  English  regiments. 

John  Whitefoot  had  been  out  all  day,  and  had  just  re- 
turned to  his  cousin's  house,  which  was  crowded  with 
fugitives,  as  the  tanner  had  friends  and  connections  in  all 
the  villages,  and  had  opened  his  doors  to  all  who  sought 
shelter,  until  every  room  was  filled. 

It  was  a  pitiful  sight  to  see  women  with  their  babies  in 
their  arms  and  their  children  gathered  round  them  sit- 
ting forlornly,  almost  indifferent  to  the  momentous  con- 
sultation which  was  going  on,  and  thinking  only  of  their 
deserted  homes  and  wondering  what  had  befallen  them. 
The  men  had  for  the  most  part  been  out  in  the  streets 
gathering  news.  The  tanner's  wife,  assisted  by  two  or 
three  of  the  women,  was  busy  at  the  great  fire  on  the 
hearth,  over  which  hung  some  huge  pots  in  which  broth 
and  porridge  were  being  prepared.  One  by  one  the  men 
dropped  in.  No  news  had  yet  been  heard  as  to  the  de- 
cision of  the  council.  It  was  dark  when  the  tanner  him- 
self entered.  His  face  was  stern  and  pale. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  55 

"It  is  settled,"  he  said  shortly,  "the  council  have 
broken  up.  I  have  just  spoken  to  one  of  the  members. 
They  and  the  officers  are  unanimously  in  favor  of  accept- 
ing the  terms  of  James. " 

Exclamations  of  anger  broke  from  some  of  the  men. 

"I  cannot  say  aught  against  it,"  the  tanner  said, 
"though  my  heart  feels  well-nigh  broken.  Had  we  only 
men  here  I  should  say  let  us  fight  to  the  last,  but  look  at 
all  these  women  and  children;  think  what  thousands  and 
thousands  of  them  are  in  the  town.  Truly  I  cannot 
blame  the  council  that  they  have  decided  not  to  bring 
this  terrible  suffering  upon  the  city/' 

"The  Lord  will  provide  for  his  own,"  a  minister  who 
had  come  in  with  his  flock  said.  "Friend,  I  had  looked 
for  better  things  from  you.  I  thought  that  you  were 
steadfast  in  the  cause  of  the  Lord,  and  now  that  the  time 
of  trouble  comes  you  fall  away  at  once.  Remember  how 
Sennacherib  and  his  host  died  before  Jerusalem.  Can- 
not the  Lord  protect  Londonderry  likewise?" 

"The  age  of  miracles  is  past,"  the  tanner  said.  "Did 
we  not  see  in  Germany  how  Magdeburg  and  other  Protes- 
tant cities  were  destroyed  with  their  inhabitants  by  the 
Papists?  No,  Brother  Williams,  the  wicked  are  suffered 
to  work  their  will  here  when  they  are  stronger  than  the 
godly,  and  we  must  look  for  no  miracles.  I  am  ready  to 
fight,  and,  had  the  council  decided  otherwise,  would  have 
done  my  share  to  the  last,  but  my  heart  sickens  as  I  look 
round  on  the  women,  the  weak,  and  ailing.  Did  James 
demand  that  we  should  renounce  our  religion,  I  would 
say  let  us  all  die  by  sword  or  famine  rather  than  consent; 
but  he  has  offered  toleration  to  all,  that  none  shall  suffer 
for  what  has  been  done,  and  that  the  property  as  well  as 
the  lives  of  all  shall  be  respected.  Truly  it  seems  to  me 
that  resistance  would  be  not  bravery  but  a  sort  of  mad- 
ness. There  are  promises  of  aid  from  England;  but  how 


56  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

long  may  we  have  to  wait  for  them,  and  there  are  but  ten 
days'  provisions  in  the  town.  If  these  English  officers  of 
King  William  think  that  resistance  is  hopeless,  why 
should  I,  who  know  naught  of  war,  set  myself  against 
them?" 

"Because  they  have  not  faith/' the  minister  said,  "and 
you  should  have  faith;  because  they  think  only  of 
carnal  weapons,  and  you  should  trust  to  the  Lord.  Re- 
member Leyden,  how  help  came  when  all  seemed  lost." 

"I  do,"  the  tanner  replied,  "and  I  remember  how  the 
women  and  children  suffered  and  died,  how  they  dropped 
in  the  streets  and  perished  with  famine  in  their  houses;  I 
remember  this,  and  I  shrink  from  saying  let  us  resist  to 
the  end.  I  should  rejoice  if  they  had  decided  that  Derry 
should  be  deserted,  that  the  women  and  children  should 
be  sent  away  to  shelter  in  the  mountains  of  Donegal,  and 
that  every  man  should  march  out  and  do  combat  with  the 
army  of  James.  We  are  numerous  and  far  better  armed 
than  the  Papists,  and  victory  might  be  ours;  but  were  it 
otherwise,  were  every  man  fated  to  fall  on  the  field,  I 
would  still  say  let  us  march  forward.  It  is  not  death 
that  I  fear,  but  seeing  these  weak  and  helpless  ones 
suffer.  I  should  not  envy  the  feelings  of  the  men  who 
decided  on  resistance,  when  the  time  came  that  the 
women  and  children  were  dying  of  hunger  around  them. 
There  is  a  time  to  fight,  and  a  time  to  sheathe  the  sword 
and  to  wait  until  a  chance  of  drawing  it  successfully 
again  arrives,  and  methinks  that,  having  such  good  terms 
offered,  the  present  is  the  time  for  waiting." 

The  preacher  waved  his  hand  impatiently,  and,  wrap- 
ping himself  in  his  cloak,  left  the  house  without  another 
word.  The  next  day  the  capitulation  was  signed,  and 
the  following  day  the  army  of  James  was  seen  approach- 
ing, and  presently  halted  on  a  hill  within  cannon-shot  of 
the  town. 


'KILCOWAN  IS  ON  FIRE,  SIRl" 


O&G 


GRANGE  AND  OEEEN.  57 

Londonderry  stands  in  a  bend  of  the  river  Foyle,  and 
the  position  which  the  army  took  up  at  once  isolated  it 
from  the  surrounding  country.  The  offer  of  capitulation 
had  already  been  sent  out  to  General  Hamilton  by  Cap- 
tain White,  the  bearer  receiving  instructions  to  stipulate 
that  the  army  should  not  advance  within  four  miles  of 
the  town  until  all  was  ready  to  hand  over  the  city.  In 
the  meantime  General  Rosen,  who  was  in  chief  command 
of  the  army,  stationed  it  so  as  to  extend  from  one  corner 
of  the  bend  of  the  river  to  the  other,  and  so  to  cut  off  all 
communication  between  the  city  and  the  surrounding 
country;  but  in  the  course  of  the  day  a  country  gentle- 
man named  Murray  made  his  way  through  their  lines 
with  a  body  of  cavalry  and  rode  up  to  the  gate  of  the 
town. 

The  governor  refused  to  open  it,  but  in  spite  of  his 
orders  some  of  the  townspeople  opened  the  gate,  and 
Murray  rode  into  the  town,  and,  going  from  point  to 
point,  exhorted  the  people  not  to  surrender  but  to  resist 
to  the  last,  accusing  the  governor  and  council  of  foul 
treachery  in  thus  handing  over  the  city. 

The  confusion  and  excitement  in  the  streets  was  now 
great,  and  while  this  was  going  on  the  governor  sent  a 
trumpeter  to  the  king  requiring  one  hour's  time  before 
the  city  should  surrender. 

Rosen  took  no  notice  of  this,  and,  believing  that  all 
was  arranged,  rode  forward  with  the  king  and  a  portion 
of  the  army.  But  Murray's  exhortations  and  passionate 
harangues  had  their  effect;  a  number  of  the  townspeople 
ran  to  the  walls,^and,  loading  the  cannon,  opened,  with 
these  and  their  muskets,  a  heavy  fire  on  the  approaching 
troops.  Several  of  the  soldiers  were  killed,  and  among 
them  was  Captain  Troy,  who  was  riding  close  to  the 
king. 

Astonished  at  this   unexpected  resistance  the  troops 


£3  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

drew  back,  as  they  were  entirely  without  means  of  mak- 
ing an  assault  upon  the  city.  The  governor  and  council 
at  once  sent  Archdeacon  Hamilton  to  the  royal  camp  to 
excuse  themselves  for  what  had  happened,  and  to  explain 
that  the  firing  was  the  action  of  a  turbulent  body  of  men 
whom  they  were  unable  to  restrain,  and  whom  they  rep- 
resented  as  drunken  rebels.  The  better  class  of  citizens, 
they  said,  were  all  resolved  to  surrender  dutifully,  and 
were  doing  all  they  could  to  persuade  the  common  people 
to  do  the  same. 

As  the  royal  artillery  had  not  yet  arrived  James  drew 
off  his  troops  to  St.  Johnston.  Murray  with  a  body  of 
horse  went  out  and  skirmished  with  them,  but  returned 
iato  the  town  on  hearing  that  the  council  still  intended 
to  surrender,  and  again  harangued  the  people.  Eight 
thousand  men  assembled  on  the  parade,  and  after  listen- 
ing to  a  passionate  harangue,  declared  that  they  would 
resist  to  the  last.  They  at  once  chose  a  preacher  named 
Walker  and  a  Mr.  Baker  as  joint  governors,  appointed 
Murray  as  general  in  the  field,  divided  themselves  into 
eight  regiments,  and  took  the  entire  control  of  the  city 
into  their  hands.  Archdeacon  Hamilton,  Lundy,  and 
several  of  the  principal  citizens  at  once  left  the  town  in 
disguise,  and  were  allowed  to  pass  through  the  besieging 
army. 

John  Whitefoot  had  been  present  at  all  the  events 
which  had  taken  place  that  day,  and  although  he  had 
quite  agreed  with  his  cousin  that  resistance  would  do  no 
good  to  the  cause,  and  would  entail  fearful  sufferings  on 
the  besieged,  he  was  carried  away  by  the  general  enthusi- 
asm, and  shouted  as  loudly  as  any  in  reply  to  the  exhor- 
tations of  Murray.  The  tanner  was  also  present.  John 
was  by  his  side,  and  saw  that  he  was  deeply  moved  by  the 
speech,  but  he  did  not  join  in  the  acclamations.  When 
all  was  over  he  laid  his  hand  on  John's  shoulder- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  59 

"The  die  is  cast,  my  boy;  I  am  glad  that  no  act  or 
Toice  of  mine  has  had  aught  to  do  with  bringing  it  about, 
and  that  the  weight  of  what  is  to  come  will  not  rest  upon 
my  conscience;  but  now  that  it  is  decided  I  shall  not  be 
one  to  draw  back,  but  will  do  my  share  with  what  strength 
the  Lord  has  given  me." 

"May  I  join  one  of  the  regiments  too?"  John  asked; 
"I  am  young,  but  I  am  as  strong  as  many  men." 

"It  were  better  not  at  present,  John;  before  the  end 
comes  every  arm  that  can  bear  weapon  may  be  needed, 
but  at  present  there  is  no  reason  why  you  should  do  so; 
doubtless  plenty  of  work  will  be  found  for  younger  hands 
besides  absolute  fighting,  but  I  think  not  that  there  will 
be  much  fighting  save  against  famine.  Our  walls  are 
strong,  and  we  have  well-nigh  forty  pieces  of  cannon, 
while  they  say  that  James  has  but  six  pieces,  and  most 
of  these  are  small.  Methinks,  then,  that  they  will  not 
even  attempt  to  take  the  city  by  storm.  Why  should 
they  waste  men  in  doing  so  when  they  can  starve  us  out? 
It  is  famine  we  have  to  fight  in  this  sort  of  war.  I  do 
not  think  that  James  has  in  all  Ireland  cannon  sufficient 
to  batter  down  our  walls;  but  ten  days  will  bring  our 
provisions  to  an  end.  It  will  be  with  us  as  with  Leyden; 
we  have  only  to  suffer  and  wait.  If  it  be  God's  will  suc- 
cor will  come  in  time,  if  not  we  must  even  perish." 

With  his  spirits  somewhat  damped  by  his  cousin's  view 
of  the  case,  John  returned  with  him  to  the  house.  He 
would  willingly  enough  have  gone  out  to  fight  against 
the  besiegers,  but  the  thought  of  the  long,  slow  agony  of 
starvation  was  naturally  terrible  to  a  lad  of  good  health 
and  appetite. 

The  mob  of  Derry  had  shown  good  sense  in  the  choice 
which  they  made  of  their  governors.  Baker,  indeed, 
who  was  a  military  man,  was  a  mere  cipher  in  the  matter. 
Walker  was  in  reality  the  sole  governor.  He  was  a  man 


«0  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

of  energy  and  judgment  as  well  as  enthusiastic  and 
fanatical,  and  he  at  once  gave  evidence  of  his  fitness  for 
the  post,  and  set  himself  diligently  to  work  to  establish 
order  in  the  town. 

He  issued  orders  that  all  unable  to  bear  arms  who 
wished  to  leave  the  town  could  do  so,  while  the  able- 
bodied  men,  now  formed  into  regiments,  were  assigned 
every  man  his  place  and  every  regiment  its  quarters  on 
the  walls.  No  less  than  thirty  thousand  fugitives,  ex- 
clusive of  the  garrison,  were  shut  up  in  the  walls  of 
Derry,  and  the  army  which  was  besieging  the  town  num- 
bered twenty  thousand.  The  guns  of  the  besiegers  soon 
opened  fire,  and  those  on  the  walls  replied  briskly.  The 
besiegers  threw  up  works,  but  carried  on  the  siege  but 
languidly,  feeling  sure  that  famine  must  ere  long  force 
the  town  to  surrender,  and  fearing,  perhaps,  to  engage 
the  fresh  and  ill-trained  levies  against  a  multitude  ani- 
mated by  the  desperate  resolution  and  religious  fanaticism 
of  the  defenders  of  the  town. 

Now  that  the  die  was  once  cast  there  was  no  longer 
any  difference  of  opinion  among  the  inhabitants,  and  all 
classes  joined  enthusiastically  in  the  measures  for  de- 
fense. All  provisions  in  the  town  were  given  into  one 
common  store  to  be  doled  out  in  regular  rations,  and  so 
made  to  last  as  long  as  possible;  and  as  these  rations  were 
from  the  first  extremely  small,  the  sufferings  of  the  be- 
sieged really  began  from  the  first  day.  John  Whitefoot 
found  that  there  was  but  little  for  him  to  do,  and  spent 
much  of  his  time  on  the  walls  watching  the  throwing  up 
of  works  by  the  besiegers. 

A  regular  cannonade  was  now  kept  up  on  both  sides; 
but  though  the  shot  occasionally  fell  inside  the  town,  the 
danger  to  the  inhabitants  from  this  source  was  but  slight, 
for  of  the  six  guns  possessed  by  the  besiegers  five 
were  very  small,  and  one  only  was  large  enough  to  carry 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  61 

shell.  All  day  the  various  chapels  were  open,  and  here 
the  preachers  by  their  fiery  discourses  kept  up  the  spirits 
and  courage  of  the  people  who  thronged  these  buildings. 
The  women  spent  most  of  their  time  there,  and  the  men, 
when  off  duty  from  the  walls,  however  fatigued  they 
might  be  with  their  labor,  -flocked  at  once  to  the  chapels 
to  pray  for  strength  to  resist  and  for  early  succor. 
Never  were  the  whole  population  of  the  town  more 
deeply  animated  by  religious  excitement,  never  a  whole 
population  more  thoroughly  and  unanimously  determined 
to  die  rather  than  surrender. 

When  not  upon  the  walls  or  in  chapel  John  spent 
much  of  his  time  in  amusing  the  children,  of  whom  there 
were  many  in  the  tanner's  house.  The  change  from  their 
country  quarters,  the  crowded  town,  the  privation  .of 
milk,  and  the  scantiness  and  unfitness  of  their  rations, 
soon  began  to  tell  upon  the  little  ones,  and  John  felt 
thankful  indeed  that  his  mind  had  been  stored  with 
stories  from  his  varied  reading  of  the  last  two  or  three 
years.  With  these  he  was  able  to  interest  and  quiet  the 
children  who  sat  round  him  with  wrapt  attention,  while 
the  booming  of  the  guns  and  the  occasional  rattling  of 
musketry  outside  passed  unheeded. 

Scarce  a  day  passed  without  active  fighting,  the  initia- 
tive being  always  taken  by  the  besieged,  for  in  the  royal 
army  the  policy  of  blockade  rather  than  assault  was 
steadily  adhered  to.  The  besieged,  however,  contin- 
ually sallied  out  and  attacked  the  parties  engaged  in 
throwing  up  works.  There  was  no  settled  plan  of  opera- 
tions; but  the  commander  on  each  portion  of  the  walls 
led  out  his  men  against  the  enemy  whenever  he  thought- 
he  saw  a  favorable  opportunity.  The  fights  which  ensued 
were  stoutly  contested,  and  many  were  killed,  but  no  ad- 
vantage was  gained  on  either  side.  If  it  was  the  inten- 
tion of  the  besieged  to  incite  the  Eoyalists  to  make  an 


02  ORAN&E  AND  GREEN. 

attack  upon  the  city  they  failed  altogether,  and  indeed 
would  have  served  their  purpose  better  had  they  remained 
quietly  within  the  walls,  for  the  energy  and  desperation 
with  which  they  fought  were  well  calculated  to  deter 
even  the  most  energetic  commander  from  attacking  a 
town  defended  by  eight  or  nine  thousand  men  animated 
by  such  fiery  energy. 

So  confident,  indeed,  were  the  besieged  that  the  gates 
were  often  left  open,  and  taunting  invitations  to  come 
on  and  take  Derry  were  shouted  to  the  besiegers.  The 
supply  of  provisions  found  to  be  stored  away  was  vastly 
greater  than  had  been  expected,  for  many  of  the  fugi- 
tives had  brought  in  large  stores,  and  a  great  number  of 
the  inhabitants  had  been  for  weeks  making  preparation 
for  the  siege  by  buying  up  quantities  of  grain  and  stor- 
ing it  in  their  cellars.  Thus,  up  to  the  end  of  the  first 
month,  although  the  allowance  of  food  was  short,  no 
real  suffering  was  undergone  by  the  inhabitants;  but  as 
time  went  on  the  supplies  doled  out  became  smaller  and 
smaller,  and  dysentery  and  fever  broke  out  in  the 
crowded  town. 

Fierce  disputes  arose  between  those  belonging  to  the 
Established  Church  and  the  Nonconformists,  and  it  was 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  Governor  Walker  pre- 
vented the  two  parties  from  engaging  in  open  strife. 
Day  and  night  the  besiegers'  fire  continued,  and  many 
were  killed  by  the  shells  which  fell  in  the  city.  The 
fighting  men  on  the  walls  were  far  better  off  than  those 
who  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  wait  and  suffer,  and  it  was 
among  the  women  and  children  chiefly  that  disease  at 
first  made  its  victims. 

For  a  time  the  children  of  the  families  who  had  taken 
refuge  with  the  tanner  remained  healthy.  The  visitors 
were  lodged  for  the  most  part  in  the  cellars,  so  as  to  be 
in  shelter  from  the  fire  of  tfco  enemy's  mortar;  but  John 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  63 

Whitefoot  suggested  to  his  cousin  that  the  children 
would  soon  pine  and  sicken  unless  they  had  air.  The 
tanner  gave  his  consent  to  John's  establishing  a  shelter 
in  the  yard.  A  corner  was  chosen,  and  a  number  of 
casks  were  placed  along  by  either  wall;  on  these  beams 
were  laid,  for  it  happened  that  the  tanner  had  intended 
shortly  before  the  siege  to  build  a  large  shed,  and  had 
got  the  timber  together  for  the  purpose. 

On  the  timber  bark  from  the  now  disused  pits  was 
heaped  to  a  depth  of  some  feet,  which  would  effectually 
break  the  fall  of  any  shell  which  might  light  upon  it,  and 
along  the  front  of  this  low  triangular  building  two  lines 
of  sacks  filled  with  tan  were  placed.  These  would  suffice 
to  prevent  any  fragment  of  a  shell  which  might  fall  and 
burst  in  the  courtyard  from  entering  the  shelter,  save  by 
the  opening  about  a  foot  deep  between  the  top  of  the 
sacks  and  the  beams.  When  the  whole  was  completed 
John  gathered  the  children  there  and  made  it  their  head- 
quarters, and  established  himself  as  captain  of  the  castle, 
as  he  called  it. 

The  elders  entered  warmly  into  his  plans.  It  was  a 
great  relief  to  them  to  have  the  house  cleared  of  the 
eighteen  or  twenty  children.  Their  mothers  had  no 
longer  any  anxiety  for  their  safety,  and  the  children 
themselves  looked  upon  it  as  great  fun.  There  was 
plenty  of  air  here,  and  in  a  short  time  John  persuaded 
the  parents  to  allow  the  children  to  sleep  as  well  as  to 
pass  the  day  in  the  shelter.  Here  he  told  them  stories, 
constructed  toys  for  them,  and  kept  them  amused  and 
quiet,  appointing  as  his  lieutenants  three  or  four  of  the 
oldest  of  the  girls,  who  had  the  little  ones  under  their 
special  charge. 

John  was  rewarded  for  his  pains  by  seeing  that  the 
children  kept  their  health  far  better  than  did  those  of 
their  neighbors,  and  up  to  the  end  of  May  not  one  of 


64  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

them  had  succumbed,  although  several  of  the  parents 
had  already  fallen  victims  to  dysentery  and  fever.  Thus 
the  month  of  May  passed.  With  June  the  hardships 
rapidly  increased;  but  on  the  13th  shouts  of  joy  were 
heard  in  the  streets.  John  ran  out  to  ascertain  the 
cause,  and  learned  that  a  fleet  of  thirty  ships  had  ap- 
peared in  Lough  Foyle,  and  was  approaching  the  city. 

The  inhabitants,  frantic  with  joy,  ran  to  the  walls,  and 
both  sides  suspended  their  fire  to  watch  the  approaching 
fleet.  Suddenly  the  ships  were  seen  to  turn  and  sail 
away.  The  people  could  not  believe  that  they  were  de- 
serted; but  when  they  saw  that  the  fleet  was  really  mak- 
ing off,  curses  and  cries  of  lamentation  and  grief  rose 
from  the  crowd. 

Why  Major-General  Kirk,  who  commanded  the  force 
on  board  the  ships,  which  were  laden  with  provisions,  did 
not  attempt  to  sail  up  to  Londonderry,  which,  as  was 
afterward  proved,  they  could  have  done  without  dif- 
ficulty, was  never  satisfactorily  explained.  The  besiegers 
had  erected  two  or  three  small  forts  on  the  banks  of  the 
river,  but  these  were  quite  incapable  of  arresting  the  pas- 
sage of  the  fleet  had  it  been  commanded  by  a  man  of  any 
resolution.  Kirk  anchored  in  Lough  Swilly,  and  con- 
tented himself  with  sending  messages  to  the  town  to  hold 
out  to  the  last. 

A  fresh  search  was  now  made  for  provisions,  and  parties 
of  men  entered  houses  which  had  been  abandoned,  or 
whose  inmates  had  died,  and  dug  up  the  floors  of  the 
cellars.  Several  considerable  deposits  of  grain  were  dis- 
covered, and  many  inhabitants,  moved  by  the  intensity 
of  the  general  suffering,  voluntarily  brought  out  hoards 
which  they  had  hitherto  kept  secret.  Early  in  the  siege 
the  water  in  the  wells  had  become  turbid  and  muddy, 
partly  owing,  it  was  thought,  to  the  concussion  of  the 
ground  by  the  constant  firing,  partly  by  the  extra  sup- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  65 

plies  which  were  drawn  from  them.  As  the  time  went 
on  many  of  them  dried  altogether,  and  the  water  in  the 
others  became  so  muddy  that  it  had  to  be  filtered  through 
cloth  or  sacking  before  it  could  be  drunk. 

During  fishing  expeditions  previous  to  the  commence- 
ment of  the  siege  John  had  more  than  once  had  a  drink 
of  water  from  the  well  of  a  peasant  living  in  a  little  hut 
near  the  river  bank.  This  hut  lay  between  the  outposts 
of  the  two  parties,  and  had  at  the  commencement  of  the 
siege  been  deserted  by  its  owner.  After  the  water  became 
bad  John  set  out  every  evening  with  a  bucket,  leaving 
the  town  just  before  the  gates  were  shut,  and  making 
straight  down  to  the  river.  When  it  became  dark  he 
crawled  along  under  the  shelter  of  the  banks  unperceived 
by  the  outposts  of  either  party  until  close  to  the  hut. 
Then  he  filled  his  bucket  at  the  well  and  returned  as  he 
had  come,  lying  down  to  sleep  on  the  bank  well  in  the 
rear  of  the  Protestant  outposts  until  morning,  when,  as 
soon  as  the  gates  were  opened,  he  carried  home  the  pre- 
cious supply. 

It  was  this  as  much  as  the  light  and  air  which  kept  the 
children  in  comparative  health;  but  on  the  further 
diminution  of  rations,  which  took  place  after  Kirk's  fleet 
retired,  they  began  to  fade  rapidly.  The  horses  had  now 
been  killed  for  food.  The  sufferings  of  the  besieged  in- 
habitants became  greater  daily,  and  numbers  died  from 
sheer  starvation.  The  little  inhabitants  of  John  White- 
foot's  castle  were  mere  skeletons.  Most  of  their  parents 
were  dead,  and  a  mournful  silence  pervaded  the  town, 
save  when  the  bells  of  the  chapels  called  to  prayer,  or  the 
yells  of  the  mob  announced  that  the  lower  orders  were 
breaking  into  houses  in  search  of  food. 

John  could  stand  the  sight  of  the  faces  of  the  suffering 
children  no  longer.  He  was  himself  faint  and  ill  from 
hunger,  for  he  had  each  day  given  a  portion  of  his  own 


66  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

scanty  rations  to  the  weakest  of  the  children,  and  he  de- 
termined to  try  and  get  them  some  food  or  to  die  in  the 
attempt.  He  set  out  at  his  usual  hour  in  the  evening. 
The  tide  was  high,  but  just  running  out,  and  entering 
the  river  he  floated  down  with  the  stream.  Keeping 
close  under  the  bank,  he  passed  the  batteries  which  the 
besiegers  had  erected  there  without  notice,  dived  under 
the  great  boom  which  they  had  constructed  across  the 
river  directly  Kirk's  expedition  had  retired,  and  con- 
tinued to  float  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  river,  where  he 
landed  and  boldly  struck  across  the  country,  for  he  was 
now  beyond  the  lines  of  the  besiegers. 

He  knew  that  his  friend  "Walter  was  in  the  Royalist 
army,  for  one  of  the  last  mails  which  entered  the  city 
had  told  him  that  he  was  to  accompany  his  father,  and 
that  Captain  Davenant's  troop  would  most  likely  form 
part  of  any  army  that  might  march  for  the  north.  By 
the  morning  his  clothes  had  dried  upon  him,  and  he  then 
boldly  entered  the  Royalist  camp,  mingling  with  the 
peasants  who  were  bringing  in  provisions  for  sale.  He 
soon  learned  where  Captain  Davenant's  troop  was  sta- 
tioned and  made  his  way  thither.  He  stood  watching 
for  some  time  until  he  saw  Walter  come  out  of  a  tent, 
and  he  then  approached  him.  Walter  looked  up,  but  did 
not  recognize  in  the  thin  and  pallid  lad  before  him  his 
former  companion. 

"Do  you  want  anything?"  he  asked. 

"Don't  you  know  me,  Walter?"  John  said. 

W alter  started  and  gazed  at  him  earnestly. 

"Good  heavens!"  he  exclaimed  at  last;  "why,  it  can't 
be  John!" 

"It  is  what  remains  of  me,"  John  replied  with  a  faint 
smile. 

"Why,  what  on  earth  have  you  been  doing  to  yourself, 
John?" 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  67 

"I  haye  been  starving  in  there,"  John  said,  pointing 
to  the  city. 

''Come  into  the  tent,  John,"  Walter  said,  grasping  his 
friend's  arm  and  then  letting  it  fall  again  with  an  ex- 
clamation of  horror  at  its  thinness;  "you  needn't  be 
afraid.  My  father  is  out — not  that  that  would  make  any 
difference." 

John  entered  the  tent,  and  sat  exhausted  upon  a  box. 
Walter  hastened  to  get  some  food,  which  he  set  before 
him,  and  poured  out  a  large  cup  of  wine  and  water,  and 
then  stood  looking  on  in  awed  silence  while  John  de- 
voured his  meal. 

"I  have  wondered  a  thousand  times,"  he  said  at  last 
when  John  had  finished,  "what  you  were  doing  in  there, 
or  whether  you  left  before  the  siege  began.  How  did 
you  get  out?" 

"I  floated  down  the  river  to  the  mouth  beyond  your 
lines  last  night  and  then  worked  round  here.  I  thought 
I  might  find  you." 

"Well,  I  am  glad  indeed  that  you  are  out,"  Walter  said. 
"Every  time  the  mortar  sent  a  shell  into  the  town  I  was 
thinking  of  you,  and  wishing  that  I  could  share  meals 
with  you,  for  of  course  we  know  that  you  are  suffering 
horribly  in  the  town," 

"Horribly!"  John  repeated.  "You  can  have  no  idea 
what  it  is,  Waiter,  to  see  children  suffer.  As  for  men, 
if  it  is  the  will  of  God,  they  must  bear  it,  but  it  is  awful 
for  children.  I  have  had  eighteen  of  them  under  my 
charge  through  the  siege,  and  to  see  them  getting  thinner 
and  weaker  every  day  till  the  bones  look  as  if  they  would 
come  through  the  skin,  and  their  eyes  get  bigger  and 
bigger,  and  their  voices  weaker,  is  awful.  At  last  I  could 
stand  it  no  longer,  and  I  have  come  out  to  fetch  some 
food  for  them." 

"To  fetch  food!"  Walter  repeated.  "Do  you  mean  to 
say  you  are  thinking  of  going  back  again?" 


68  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"That  I  am,"  John  said.  "I  am  going  to  take  some 
food  in  to  them.  You  will  help  me,  won't  you,  Walter? 
It  isn't  for  the  men  that  fight,  but  for  little  children  who 
know  nothing  about  King  James,  or  King  William,  or 
the  Protestants,  or  the  Catholics,  but  who  are  just  God's 
creatures,  and  are  dying  of  hunger.  No  one  could 
grudge  food  to  infants  like  these." 

"I  will  help  you,  of  course,  John,"  Walter  said,  "if  I 
can;  but  now  tell  me  all  about  it." 

John  then  gave  an  account  of  all  he  had  been  doing 
throughout  the  siege. 

"And  now  what  have  you  been  doing,  Walter?  Fight- 
ing?" 

"No.  I  have  not  been  doing  any  fighting,  except  that 
once  or  twice  I  was  out  with  the  troop,  when  they  had  a 
skirmish  with  your  horsemen,  but  I  kept  in  the  rear.  I 
hope,  ere  long,  my  father  will  let  me  enter,  but  he  is 
waiting  to  see  what  comes  of  it.  No.  I  have  been  idle 
enough.  Well,  of  course,  I  know  all  the  officers  in  the 
cavalry  now,  and  pretty  nearly  all  the  officers  in  the 
camp,  and  then  with  these  constant  skirmishes  and  attacks 
by  your  people  and  ours  there  is  always  plenty  to  interest 
one.  General  Hamilton  has  been  conducting  the  siege 
lately,  but  General  Rosen  returned  yesterday  and  took 
the  command;  but  there's  really  not  much  to  do.  We 
know  you  cannot  hold  out  much  longer." 

"I  don't  know,"  John  said  quietly.  "I  think  that  as 
long  as  a  man  has  strength  enough  to  hold  his  arms  Derry 
will  not  surrender.  When  you  march  in  it  will  be  to  a  city 
of  dead  people.  We  had  such  hopes  when  the  fleet  came. 
If  the  people  could  have  caught  Kirk  they  would  have 
torn  him  in  pieces.  He  had  five  thousand  soldiers  on 
board,  and  if  he  had  landed  them  we  could  have  sallied 
out  and  fought  instead  of  dying  of  hunger." 

"Yes,"  Walter  agreed,  "we  should  have  retired  at 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  69 

once.  We  have  only  seven  or  eight  thousand  men  here 
now,  and  if  five  thousand  English  soldiers  had  landed  we 
must  have  raised  the  siege  at  once.  I  can  tell  you,  that 
though  he  is  on  the  other  side,  I  was  almost  as  angry  at 
Kirk's  cowardice  as  you  must  have  been.  I  shall  he  glad 
when  this  awful  business  is  over.  I  knew  it  was  bad 
enough  before,  but  after  what  you  have  told  me  about 
the  women  and  children  I  shall  never  think  of  anything 
else,  and  I  will  gladly  help  you  in  any  way  I  can.  There 
can't  be  any  treason  in  trying  to  prevent  children  from 
starving  to  death.  What  do  you  want  me  to  do?" 

"What  would  do  the  children  more  good  than  any- 
thing, the  women  say,  would  be  milk.  If  I  could  get  a 
keg  that  would  hold  two  or  three  gallons,  and  a  water- 
tight box  with  about  twenty  pounds  of  bread,  I  could 
swim  back  with  them  just  as  I  came.  I  would  show  you 
the  exact  spot  where  I  landed,  and  would  come  out  again 
in  four  days.  If  you  could  put  a  supply  ready  for  me 
every  fourth  night  among  the  bushes,  at  the  mouth  of 
the  river,  with  a  little  lantern  to  show  me  the  exact  spot, 
I  could  come  down  with  the  tide,  get  the  things,  and  float 
back  again  when  the  tide  turns." 

"I  could  do  that  easily  enough,"  Walter  said.  "The 
mouth  of  the  river  is  quite  beyond  our  lines.  But  it  is 
very  risky  for  you,  John.  You  might  get  shot  if  a 
sentry  were  to  see  you." 

"I  do  not  think  that  there  is  much  fear  of  that,"  John 
said.  "Just  floating  along  as  I  do,  without  swimming  at 
all,  there  is  only  just  my  face  above  water,  and  it  would 
be  hardly  possible  for  a  sentry  to  see  me;  but  if  I  were 
shot  I  could  not  die  in  a  better  cause." 

"I  think,  John,  if  you  don't  mind,  I  should  like  to  tell 
my  father.  I  am  quite  sure  he  would  not  object,  and  in 
case  you  should  happen  to  get  caught  you  could  refer  at 
onoe  to  him  to  prove  that  you  were  not  a  spy.  They 


70  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

make  very  short  work  of  spies.  But  if  you  were  to  de- 
mand to  be  brought  to  Captain  Davenant,  and  say  you 
were  acting  in  accordance  with  his  knowledge,  no  doubt 
they  would  bring  you." 

"Do  as  you  think  best,  Walter,  but  don't  tell  him  unless 
you  feel  almost  sure  that  he  will  not  object." 

"There  is  no  fear  of  that/'  Walter  said.  "He  is  con- 
stantly lamenting  over  the  sufferings  of  the  people  of 
Derry,  and  has  all  along  been  in  favor  of  attempting  to 
storm  the  place  by  force,  so  as  to  put  a  stop  to  all  this 
useless  suffering.  Now,  John,  you  had  better  lie  down 
on  that  straw  bed  of  mine  and  get  a  sleep.  After  that 
you  will  be  ready  for  another  meal.  I  will  tell  Larry  to 
go  out  among  the  market  people  and  buy  three  gallons  of 
milk  and  twenty  pounds  of  bread.  There  are  plenty  of 
small  spirit  kegs  about  which  will  do  capitally  for  the 
milk,  and  I  don't  think  that  we  can  have  anything  better 
than  one  of  them  for  the  bread.  We  can  head  it  up  and 
make  it  water-tight.  How  do  you  mean  to  get  into  the 
town?  I  should  have  thought  that  they  were  likely  to 
be  seized." 

"So  they  would  be,"  John  said.  "I  shall  hide  them 
in  some  bushes  at  the  foot  of  the  walls,  at  the  side  of  the 
town  facing  the  river.  There  are  only  a  few  sentvies 
there.  Then  when  it  is  light  I  shall  go  in  and  tell  my 
cousin  and  get  him  after  dark  to  lower  a  rope  from  the 
wall.  I  shall  of  course  be  below  to  tie  on  the  kegs.  He 
can  then  walk  with  them  boldly  through  the  street  to  our 
house,  which  is  only  a  short  distance  from  that  part  of 
the  walls.  If  any  one  saw  him  they  would  only  suppose 
he  was  taking  home  water  from  one  of  the  wells." 

John  was  soon  fast  asleep.  Walter  sat  watching  him 
until,  two  hours  later,  his  father  returned  with  his  troop. 
John  still  slept  on,  while  Walter  told  his  father  tb* 
errand  on  which  he  had  come. 


ORANGE  AND  GEEEN.  71 

"He  is  a  brave  lad/'  Captain  Davenant  said,  "and  I 
hosier  him  for  his  conduct.  It  is  not  many  men  who  at  a 
time  like  this  would  risk  their  lives  for  a  number  of  chil- 
dren who  are  not  any  relation  to  them.  Certainly  I  will 
gladly  assist  liim.  I  am  sick  at  heart  at  all  this.  My 
only  consolation  is  that  it  is  brought  on  solely  by  the  acts 
of  these  men,  who,  though  comparatively  a  handful,  set 
themselves  up  against  the  voice  of  all  Ireland.  If  they 
had  risen  when  an  English  army  arrived  to  their  assist- 
ance I  should  say  nothing  against  it.  As  it  is,  without 
doing  any  good  to  their  cause,  they  are  entailing  this 
horrible  suffering  upon  thousands  of  women  and  children. 

"By  all  means  help  the  poor  lad,  and  if  he  should  fall 
into  the  hands  of  our  people  let  him  mention  my  name. 
Rosen  would  no  doubt  disapprove  of  it,  but  I  cannot  help 
that.  All  the  Irish  gentlemen  in  the  army  would  agree 
that  I  had  done  rightly,  and  even  if  they  didn't,  my  own 
conscience  would  be  quite  sufficient  lor  me  to  act  upon. 
I  am  fighting  against  the  king's  enemies,  not  warring 
against  women  and  children.  How  soundly  the  poor  lad 
sleeps,  and  how  changed  he  is!  He  is  a  mere  skeleton. 
I  should  not  have  known  him  in  the  least.  If  this  is  the 
condition  into  which  a  strong  healthy  lad  has  fallen, 
what  must  the  women  and  children  have  suffered!  I 
wish  Kirk  had  not  turned  coward,  but  had  landed  his 
troops.  We  could  then  have  brought  up  our  scattered 
forces,  and  could  have  fought  them  in  a  fair  field  with 
something  like  equal  forces.  That  would  have  been 
vastly  more  to  my  taste  than  starving  them  like  rats  in  a 
hole." 


ORANGE  AND  QREE2ST. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   BELIEF   OP   DERBY. 

IT  was  late  in  the  afternoon  before  John  woke.  He 
started  up  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  Captain  Davenant. 

"You  have  had  a  good  sleep,  and  I  hope  you  are  all  the 
better  for  it,"  Captain  Davenant  said  kindly.  "My  son 
has  been  telling  me  all  about  your  expedition,  and  I 
honor  you  very  much  for  the  courage  you  have  shown  in 
thus  risking  your  life  to  get  food  for  those  starving  chil- 
dren. I  quite  approve  of  the  promise  Walter  has  given 
to  assist  you,  and  if  you  should  by  any  chance  be  taken 
prisoner  I  will  stand  your  friend." 

John  expressed  his  gratitude  warmly. 

"It  is  a  sad  thing  in  these  civil  wars,  when  friends  are 
arrayed  against  friends,"  Captain  Davenant  said.  "Who 
would  have  thought  three  months  ago  that  you  and 
Walter  would  be  arrayed  on  opposite  sides?  It  is  true 
you  are  neither  of  you  combatants,  but  I  have  no  doubt 
you  would  gladly  have  joined  in  some  of  the  sallies,  just 
as  Walter  is  eager  to  be  riding  in  my  troop.  If  we  must 
fight,  I  wish  at  any  rate  that  it  could  be  so  managed  that 
all' the  suffering  should  fall  upon  the  men  who  are  willing 
to  take  up  the  sword,  and  not  upon  the  women  and  chil- 
dren. My  heart  bleeds  as  I  ride  across  the  country.  At 
one  time  one  comes  upon  a  ruined  village  burned  by  the 
midnight  ruffians  who  call  themselves  rapparees,  and 
who  are  a  disgrace  to  our  cause;  at  another  upon  a  place 
sacked  and  ruined  by  one  of  the  bands  of  horsemen  from 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  78 

Enniskillen,  who  are  as  cruel  and  merciless  as  the  rap- 
parees.  Let  the  armies  fight  out  their  quarrels,  I  say, 
but  let  peaceful  people  dwell  in  quiet  and  safety.  But 
wholesale  atrocities  have  ever  been  the  rule  on  both  sides 
in  warfare  in  Ireland,  and  will,  I  suppose,  remain  so  to 
the  end.  And  now  we  are  just  going  to  have  dinner, 
and  another  hearty  meal  will  do  you  good.  Each  night 
when  my  son  brings  down  the  supplies  for  you  he  will 
bring  a  substantial  meal  of  cold  meat  and  bread,  and  you 
must  give  me  your  promise  now  that  you  will  eat  this  at 
once.  You  will  need  it  after  being  so  long^in  the  water, 
and  having  another  swim  before  you  besides.  Although' 
I  approve  of  sending  in  milk  for  the  children,  I  can  be 
no  party  to  the  supply  of  food  for  the  garrison.  Do  you 
promise?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  promise,"  John  said,  "though  I  would 
rather  save  all  but  a  mouthful  or  two  for  the  people  who 
are  starving  at  home.  Still,  of  course,  if  you  insist  upon 
it,  I  will  promise." 

"I  do  insist  upon  it,  John.  The  lives  of  these  children 
of  yours  depend  on  your  life,  and  even  one  good  meal 
every  four  days  will  help  you  to  keep  enough  strength 
together  to  carry  out  the  kind  work  you  have  under- 
taken." 

Larry  now  brought  in  the  dinner.  He  had  been  told 
by  Walter  of  John's  arrival,  but  he  otherwise  would  have 
failed  to  recognize  in  him  the  boy  who  had  sometimes 
come  down  to  the  village  with  Walter. 

"Are  you  quite  well,  Larry?"  John  asked  him. 

"I  am,"  Larry  replied;  "but  I  need  not  ask  the  same 
question  of  yourself,  for  you  are  nothing  but  skin  and 
bone  entirely.  Dear,  dear,  I  wouldn't  have  known  you 
at  all,  at  all,  and  such  a  foine  color  as  ye  used  to  have." 

"I  don't  think  starving  would  suit  you,  Larry,"  Cap- 
tain Davenant  said  with  a  smile. 


74  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"Sure  an*  it  wouldn't,  yer  honor.  It's  always  ready  to 
eat  I  am,  though,  as  mother  says,  the  victuals  don't  seem 
to  do  me  much  good  anyway." 

"You  won't  be  able  to  come  out  and  go  back  again  the 
same  night  next  week,  John,"  Captain  Davenant  said 
presently;  "the  tide  won't  suit,  so  you  must  come  up 
here  as  you  have  done  to-day.  You  will  always  find  a 
hearty  welcome,  and  Walter  shall  go  down  and  meet  you 
early  in  the  morning  near  the  mouth  of  the  river,  so  you 
can  come  up  with  him;  and  then,  if  you  fall  in  with  any 
of  the  other  parties,  no  questions  will  be  asked.  I  think 
every  one  in  camp  knows  him  now.  I  wonder  what  your 
grandfather  would  say  if  he  saw  you  sitting  here  at 
dinner  with  Walter  and  me?" 

John  laughed. 

"I  am  afraid  he  would  disown  me  then  and  there  with- 
out listening  to  explanations." 

"I  have  no  doubt  it's  a  sore  grievance  to  him  that  he 
is  not  in  Derry  at  present,"  Captain  Davenant  said. 

"I  am  sure  it  is,"  John  replied;  "but  the  fasting 
would  be  a  great  trial  to  him.  My  grandfather  is  a  cap- 
ital trencherman;  still,  I  am  sure  he  would  have  borne  his 
part." 

"That  he  would,"  Captain  Davenant  agreed;  "he  and 
the  men  of  his  class  are  thorough  fanatics,  as  I  consider 
them.  Hard  and  pitiless  as  they  proved  themselves  to 
those  against  whom  they  fought,  one  cannot  but  admire 
them,  for  they  were  heart  and  soul  in  their  cause.  There 
was  no  flinching,  no  half-measures,  no  concessions  for  the 
sake  of  expediency.  On  the  ground  on  which  they  took 
their  stand  they  conquered  or  died.  Would  that  a  like 
spirit  animated  all  my  countrymen!" 

After  nightfall  Larry  brought  round  Walter's  horse 
saddled  and  his  own  rough  pony.  Walter  mounted  the 
former,  and  John  the  latter.  The  two  kegs  were  slung 
across  Walter's  horse. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  75 

"Will  you  meet  me  at  the  clump  of  trees  half  a  mile 
out  of  camp,  Larry?"  Walter  said,  "in  the  dark  no  one 
will  notice  the  difference  between  you  and  John." 

Captain  Davenant  had  furnished  Walter  with  a  pass- 
word, and  now  walked  beside  the  two  boys  till  they  were 
well  beyond  the  camp,  and  then  retui-ned  to  his  tent. 
The  lads  made  their  way  without  meeting  with  any  one 
down  to  the  mouth  of  the  river;  the  kegs  were  then 
taken  off  the  horse  and  placed  in  the  water — they  floated 
just  above  the  surface. 

"That  is  exactly  right,"  John  said;  "they  will  not 
show  any  more  than  will  my  face.  When  I  come  down 
next  time  I  shall  fill  them  with  water  so  as  to  keep  them 
just  at  this  level." 

"I  am  afraid  the  moon  will  be  up  next  time,  John." 

"Yes,  it  will.  I  shall  lay  some  boughs  of  bush  across 
my  face  and  the  kegs,  so  that  there  will  be  no  fear  of  my 
face  showing;  and  if  a  sentry  should  happen  to  catch 
sight  of  it  he  will  suppose  that  it  is  merely  a  bush  drift- 
ing in  the  stream." 

"Well,  good-by,  John,  and  may  you  get  through  with- 
out trouble." 

"I  have  no  fear,  Walter.  I  am  in  God's  hands,  and 
He  will  take  me  safely  through  if  He  thinks  fit." 

The  journey  was  achieved  without  detection,  the  only 
difficulty  being  the  sinking  of  the  kegs  under  the  boom; 
this,  however,  was  successfully  accomplished,  and  by  mid- 
night the  kegs  were  safely  hidden  in  some  bushes  at  the 
foot  of  the  wall,  and  there  John  lay  down  and  waited  for 
morning. 

As  he  entered  the  yard  the  children  ran  out  to  meet 
him.  There  were  no  loud  rejoicings;  they  had  no  longer 
strength  or  spirit  to  shout  and  laugh;  but  the  joy  in  the 
thin,  worn  faces  was  more  eloquent  than  any  words  could 
have  been. 


7«  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"We  have  missed  you  so,  John.  We  have  wanted  you 
so  much.  Lucy  and  Kate,  and  Deby  were  so  bad  yester- 
day, and  they  did  cry  so  for  you.  We  were  all  so  hun- 
gry. We  don't  mind  so  much  when  you  are  here  to  talk 
to  us  and  tell  us  stories.  Why  did  you  stop  away,  John, 
when  we  wanted  you  so?" 

"I  went  away  to  see  if  I  could  manage  to  get  you 
something  to  eat." 

"And  did  you?"  was  the  anxious  cry. 

"I  have  got  a  little;  but  you  must  wait  till  evening, 
anu  then  you  will  each  have — "  and  he  stopped. 

"What,  John?     Oh,  do  tell  us!" 

"You  will  each  have  some  milk  and  bread.  Not  much, 
dears,"  he  went  on,  as  there  was  a  cry  of  gladness,  which 
was  pitiful  from  the  intensity  of  joy  it  expressed,  "but 
there  will  be  some  for  to-night,  and  a  little  curds  and 
whey  and  bread  for  you  to-morrow  and  next  day,  and  I 
hope  always  as  long  as  this  lasts.  Now,  go,  dears,  into 
your  castle.  I  will  come  to  you  presently.  I  have 
brought  you  some  water  as  usual." 

"I  am  heartily  glad  to  see  you  back,  John,"  his  cousin 
said  as  he  entered  the  house.  "The  children  were  in  a 
sad  state  without  you  yesterday.  I  suppose  you  can  tell 
me  now  what  you  have  been  doing.  You  told  me  you 
would  be  away  two  nights,  and  begged  me  not  to  ask  any 
questions;  but  although  I  know  you  to  be  discret  and 
prudent,  I  have  been  worrying." 

"I  will  tell  you  now,"  John  said,  and  he  recounted  the 
details  of  the  expedition  which  he  had  accomplished. 

"And  you  have  swum  the  river  twice,  and  been  in  the 
camp  of  the  Papists.  Truly  it  is  surprising,  John,  and  I 
know  not  what  to  do.  Should  your  visit  there  be  dis- 
covered you  will  assuredly  be  accused  of  treachery." 

"They  may  accuse  me  of  what  they  like,"  John  said 
quietly.  "I  have  done  it,  and  I  am  going  to  do  it  again 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  f? 

erery  fourth  Anight,  and  there  is  the  milk  and  bread  at 
the  foot  of  the  wall  ready  for  you  to  haul  up  as  soon  as  it 
gets  dark/* 

"It  ought  to  be  fairly  divided,"  the  tanner  said. 

"It  will  be  fairly  divided  between  our'children,"  John 
said;  "but  nobody  else  will  get  a  drop  or  a  crumb.  I 
have  risked  my  life  to  get  it  for  them.  If  other  people 
want  to  get  it  let  them  do  the  same.  Besides,  as  I  told 
you,  Captain  Davenant  and  his  son  both  procured  it  for 
me  for  the  sake  of  the  childen,  and  them  only,  and  I 
should  be  breaking  faith  with  them  if  any  others  touched 
it  save  those  for  whom  it  was  given  me.  It  is  little 
enough  among  eighteen  children  for  four  days — a  pound 
of  bread  and  a  little  over  a  pint  of  milk  each.  They  must 
each  have  a  quarter  of  a  pint  when  you  bring  it  in  to- 
night, and  the  rest  had  better  be  curdled.  That  way  it 
will  keep,  and  they  can  have  a  portion  each  day  of  curds 
and  whey,  and  a  fourth  share  of  their  bread.  It  is  little 
enough;  but  I  trust  that  it  may  keep  life  in  them." 

"Well,  John,  I  will  do  as  you  say,"  the  tanner  said 
after  a  pause.  "It  goes  somewhat  against  my  con- 
science; but,  as  you  say,  it  will  make  but  a  meager  por- 
tion for  each  of  them,  and  would  be  nothing  were  it 
fairly  divided;  besides,  you  have  brought  it  with  the  risk 
of  your  life,  and  I  know  not  that  any  save  you  have  a 
right  to  a  voice  in  its  partition." 

Before  the  gates  were  closed  John  went  out,  and  pres- 
ently had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  a  small  stone  drop 
from  the  wall  above  him,  followed  presently  by  the  end 
of  a  rope.  He  sent  up  the  kegs,  and  then  lay  down 
among  the  bushes  and  enjoyed  the  satisfaction  of  think- 
ing of  the  joy  of  the  little  ones  when  the  milk  and  bread 
were  served  out  to  them.  As  soon  as  the  gates  were  open 
in  the  morning  he  went  in. 

"Thank  you,  oh,  so  much,  for  the  milk  and  bread  last 


?8  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

night.  We  heard  how  you  had  swum  so  far  and  gone 
into  danger  to  get  it  for  us,  and  we're  going  to  have  some 
more  for  breakfast." 

"It  is  not  much,  dears/'  John  said. 

"Oh,  no,  it  was  not  much;  but  it  was  so  nice,  and  we 
did  all  sleep  so  well  last  night — even  little  Lucy  didn't 
waken  and  cry  once — and  Ruth  Hardy  said  we  ought  to 
call  you  the  Raven;  but  we  don't  like  that  name  for  you." 

"The  Raven,  Ruth!"  John  said,  mystified.  "Why  did 
you  want  to  call  me  the  Raven?" 

"I  wouldn't  do  it  if  you  didn't  like  it,  dear  John;  but 
you  know  that  chapter  that  Master  Williams  read  us  the 
other  day  about  the  ravens  that  fed  somebody  in  a  cave, 
and  we  have  been  wishing  the  ravens  would  feed  us;  and 
so  you  see  when  you  sent  us  the  milk  last  night  I  thought 
you  ought  to  be  called  the  Raven.  I  did  not  mean  any 
harm." 

"No,  my  dear,  of  course  not,  and  you  can  all  call  me  the 
Raven  if  you  like." 

"No,  no,  John.  You  are  John,  and  that's  much  better 
than  the  Raven.  They  brought  the  man  food,  but  they 
didn't  nurse  him  and  tell  him  stories  as  you  do." 

"Now,  run  inside  the  castle,"  John  said,  "and  I  will 
go  in  and  get  your  breakfasts." 

John  soon  returned  with  a  great  bowl  of  curds  and 
whey,  a  platter  piled  up  with  slices  of  bread  and  a  score 
of  little  mugs,  and  the  feast  began.  Scarce  a  word  was 
said  while  the  children  were  eating,  their  hunger  was  too 
keen  and  their  enjoyment  too  intense  to  admit  of  speech. 
When  each  had  finished  their  portion  there  was  a  general 
exclamation. 

"Oh,  John,  you  haven't  ha'd  any.  Why  didn't  you 
have  some  too?" 

"Because  there   is  only   enough   for  you,"  he  said. 
"If  I  were  to  have  some,  and  Cousin  Josiah,  and  all  the 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  TO 

others,  there  would  be  a  very  little  share  for  you;  besides, 
when  I  went  out  the  day  before  yesterday  I  had  as  much 
as  I  could  eat." 

"Oh,  dear,  that  must  have  been  nice,"  one  of  the  boys 
said.  "Only  think  having  as  much  as  one  can  eat.  Oh, 
how  much  I  could  eat  if  I  had  it!" 

"And  yet  I  dare  say,  Tom,"  John  said,  "that  some- 
times before  you  came  here,  when  you  had  as  much  as 
you  could  eat,  you  used  to  grumble  if  it  wasn't  quite  what 
you  fancied." 

"I  shall  never  grumble  again,"  the  boy  said  positively. 
"I  shall  be  quite,  quite  content  with  potatoes,  if  I  can 
but  get  enough  of  them." 

'""The  good  times  will  come  again,"  John  said  cheerily. 
"Now  we  will  have  a  story.  Which  shall  it  be?" 

As  the  children  sat  round  him,  John  was  delighted  to 
see  that  even  the  two  scanty  meals  they  had  had  had  done 
wonders  for  them.  The  listless,  hopeless  look  of  the  last 
few  days  had  disappeared,  and  occasionally  something 
like  a  hearty  laugh  broke  out  among  them,  and  an  hour 
later  the  tanner  came  to  the  entrance. 

"Come  to  the  walls  with  me,  John." 

"What  is  it? — what  is  the  matter?"  John  said,  as  he 
saw  the  look  of  anger  and  indignation  on  the  wasted 
features  of  his  cousin. 

"Come  and  see  for  yourself,"  the  latter  said. 

When  they  reached  the  walls  they  found  them  crowded 
with  the  inhabitants.  Outside  were  a  multitude  of 
women,  children,  and  old  men.  These  General  Eosen, 
with  a  refinement  of  cruelty,  had  swept  in  from  the 
country  round  and  driven  under  the  walls,  where  they 
were  left  to  starve,  unless  the  garrison  would  take  them 
in  and  divide  their  scanty  supply  of  food  with  them. 

"It  is  monstrous,"  John  cried,  when  he  understood 
the  meaning  of  the  sight. 


80  ORANGE  AND  OREEN. 

"What  are  we  to  do  ?" 

"We  can  do  nothing,"  the  tanner  replied;  "the  coun- 
cil have  met,  and  have  determined  to  keep  the  gates 
closed.  We  are  dying  for  the  cause;  they  must  do  so 
too;  and  they  will  not  die  in  vain,  for  all  Europe  will  cry 
out  when  they  hear  of  this  dastardly  act  of  cruelty." 

The  people  outside  were  animated  by  a  spirit  as  stern 
as  that  of  the  besieged,  and  the  women  cried  out  to  thoso 
on  the  walls  to  keep  the  gates  shut  and  to  resist  to  the 
last,  and  not  to  heed  them. 

The  ministers  went  out  through  the  gates  and  held 
services  among  the  crowd,  and  the  people  on  the  walls 
joined  in  the  hymns  that  were  sung  below.  So  for  three 
days  and  nights  the  people  within  and  without  fasted 
and  prayed.  On  the  third  day  a  messenger  arrived  from 
King  James  at  Dublin  ordering  General  Rosen  at  once  to 
let  the  people  depart. 

The  indignation  among  the  Irish  gentlemen  in  the 
camp  at  Rosen's  brutal  order  had  been  unbounded,  and 
messenger  after  messenger  had  been  sent  to  Dublin, 
where  the  news  excited  a  burst  of  indignation,  and  James 
at  once  countermanded  the  order  of  the  general.  The 
gates  were  opened  now,  and  the  people  flocked  out  and 
exchanged  greetings  with  their  friends.  A  few  able- 
bodied  men  in  the  crowd  entered  the  town  to  share  in  its 
defense,  while  a  considerable  number  of  the  women  and 
children  from  within  mingled  with  them  and  moved 
away  through  the  lines  of  the  besiegers. 

John  had  the  day  before  gone  out  when  the  gates  were 
opened  for  the  preachers,  and  at  night  had  again  safely 
made  the  passage  to  the  mouth  of  the  river  and  back. 
He  found  the  lantern  burning  among  the  bushes,  and 
two  kegs  placed  beside  it,  with  a  bountiful  meal  of  bread 
and  meat  for  himself. 

So  the  days  went  on,  each  day  lessening  the  number  of 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  81 

the  inhabitants  of  the  town.  Fever  and  famine  were 
making  terrible  ravages,  and  the  survivors  moved  about 
the  streets  like  living  skeletons,  so  feeble  and  weak  now 
that  they  could  scarce  bear  the  weight  of  their  arms. 

On  the  30th  of  July  three  ships  were  seen  approaching 
the  mouth  of  the  river.  They  were  part  of  Kirk's  squad- 
ron, which  had  all  this  time  been  lying  idle  almost  within 
sight  of  the  town.  The  news  of  his  conduct  had  excited 
such  anger  and  indignation  in  England  that  at  last,  in 
obedience  to  peremptory  orders  from  London,  he  pre- 
pared to  make  the  attempt;  although,  by  sending  only 
two  store-ships  and  one  frigate,  it  would  almost  seem  as 
if  he  had  determined  that  it  should  be  a  failure.  The 
besiegers  as  well  as  the  besieged  saw  the  three  ships  ad- 
vancing, and  the  former  moved  down  to  the  shore  to 
repel  the  attempt;  the  batteries  on  either  side  of  the 
boom  were  manned,  and  from  them,  and  from  the  in- 
fantry gathered  on  the  banks,  a  heavy  fire  was  opened  as 
the  ships  approached. 

So  innocuous  was  the  fire  of  the  artillery  that  it  has 
been  supposed  that  Kirk  had  previously  bribed  the  officers 
commanding  the  forts.  At  any  rate  the  ships  suffered  no 
material  damage,  and,  returning  the  fire,  advanced 
against  the  boom.  The  leading  store-ship  dashed  against 
it  and  broke  it,  but  the  ship  swerved  from  her  course 
with  the  shock  and  struck  the  ground.  A  shout  of  dis- 
may burst  from  those  on  the  walls,  and  one  of  exultation 
from  the  besiegers,  who  rushed  down  to  board  the  ves- 
sel. Her  captain,  however,  pointed  all  his  guns  forward, 
and  discharged  them  all  at  the  same  moment,  and  the 
recoil  shook  the  vessel  from  her  hold  on  the  ground,  and 
she  floated  off,  and  pursued  her  way  up  the  river,  fol- 
lowed by  her  consorts. 

The  delay  of  Kirk  had  cost  the  defenders  of  London- 
derry more  than  half  their  number.  The  fighting  men 


vo  ORANGE  AND  GREW. 

had,  either  by  disease,  famine,  or  in  the  field,  lost  some 
five  thousand,  while  of  the  non-combatants  seven  thou- 
sand had  died.  The  joy  and  exultation  in  the  city  as  the 
two  store-ships  ranged  up  under  its  walls  were  un- 
bounded. Provisions  were  speedily  conveyed  on  shore, 
and  abundance  took  the  place  of  famine.  Five  days 
later  General  Rosen  raised  the  siege  and  marched  away 
with  his  army,  which  had  in  the  various  operations  of 
the  siege,  and  from  the  effect  of  disease,  lost  upward  of 
three  thousand  men. 

"This  has  been  a  bad  beginning,  Walter,"  Captain 
Davenant  said,  as  they  rode  away  from  the  grounds  on 
which  they  had  been  so  long  encamped.  ';If  the  whole 
force  of  Ireland  does  not  suffice  to  take  a  single  town, 
the  prospect  of  our  waging  war  successfully  against  Eng- 
land is  not  hopeful. " 

"It  seems  to  me  that  it  would  have  been  much  better 
to  have  left  Deny  alone,  father,"  Walter  said. 

"It  would  have  been  better  as  it  has  turned  out, 
Walter;  but  had  the  king  taken  the  place,  as  he  ex- 
pected, without  difficulty,  he  would  have  crossed  with  a, 
portion  of  the  army  to  Scotland,  where  a  considerable 
part  of  the  population  would  at  once  have  joined  him. 
The  defense  of  Derry  has  entirely  thwarted  that  plan, 
and  I  fear  now  that  it  will  never  be  carried  out.  How- 
ever, it  has  had  the  advantage  of  making  soldiers  out  of 
an  army  of  peasants.  When  we  came  here  officers  and 
men  were  alike  ignorant  of  everything  relating  to  war; 
now  we  have,  at  any  rate,  learned  a  certain  amount  of 
drill  and  discipline,  and  I  think  we  shall  give  a  much 
better  account  of  ourselves  in  the  open  field  than  we 
have  done  in  front  of  a  strong  town  which  we  had  no 
means  whatever  of  storming.  Still  it  has  been  a  fright- 
ful waste  of  life  on  both  sides,  and  with  no  result  beyond 
horribly  embittering  the  feeling  of  hatred  which  unfor- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  S3 

innately  prevailed  before  between  the  Catholic  and  Prot- 
estant populations." 

The  mortification  and  disgust  caused  by  the  failure  of 
Londonderry  was  increased  by  a  severe  defeat  of  a  force 
under  General  Justin  McCarthy,  Lord  Mountcashel,  at 
Xevrto^vn-Butler,  on  the  very  day  that  Deny  was  re- 
lieved. General  McCarthy  had  been  detached  with  a 
corps  of  six  thousand  men  against  the  Enniskilleners. 
He  came  up  with  them  near  Newtown-Butler.  Although 
but  two  thousand  strong,  the  Enniskilleners/ who  were 
commanded  by  Colonel  Wolseley,  an  English  officer,  at 
once  attacked  the  Irish,  only  a  portion  of  whom  had 
come  upon  the  ground. 

McCarthy,  who  was  a  brave  and  experienced  officer, 
sent  orders  to  the  cavalry  to  face  to  the  right  and  march 
to  the  support  of  the  wing  that  was  attacked.  The 
officer  gave  the  order  "right-about  face,"  and  the  cav- 
alry turned  and  trotted  toward  the  rear.  The  infantry, 
believing  that  they  were  deserted  by  the  horse,  at  once 
lost  heart  and  fell  into  confusion.  McCarthy,  while  en- 
deavoring to  remedy  the  disorder,  was  wounded  and 
taken  prisoner,  and  the  flight  became  general.  The  En- 
niskilleners pursued  with  savage  fury,  and  during  the 
evening,  the  whole  of  the  night,  and  the  greater  part  of 
the  next  day,  hunted  the  fugitives  down  in  the  bogs  and 
woods,  and  slew  them  in  cold  blood.  Five  hundred  of 
the  Irish  threw  themselves  into  Lough  Erne,  rather  than 
face  death  at  the  hands  of  their  savage  enemies,  and  only 
one  of  the  number  saved  himself  by  swimming. 

After  leaving  Derry  the  army  returned  to  Dublin, 
where  the  parliament  which  James  had  summoned  was 
then  sitting.  Most  of  the  soldiers  were  quartered  on  the 
citizens;  but,  as  the  pressure  was  very  great,  Captain 
Davenant  easily  obtained  leave  for  his  troop  to  go  out  to 
Bray,  where  they  were  within  a  very  short  distance  of  his 


84  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

own  house.  The  day  after  his  return  home  Walter  went 
over  to  give  Jabez  Whitefoot  and  his  wife  news  of  John, 
from  whom  they  had  heard  nothing  since  a  fortnight  be- 
fore the  siege  had  begun. 

"Your  son  is  alive  and  well,"  were  his  first  words.  "He 
has  been  all  through  the  siege  of  Derry,  and  has  behaved 
like  a  hero." 

"The  Lord  be  praised!"  Jabez  said,  while  his  wife 
burst  into  tears  of  relief,  for  she  had  gone  through  ter- 
rible anxiety  during  the  long  weeks  that  Derry  had  been 
suffering  from  starvation. 

"But  how  do  you  know,  Master  Walter?"  Jabez  asked. 
"Seeing  that  you  were  on  the  side  of  the  besiegers  how 
could  you  tell  what  was  passing  on  the  inside  of  the  walls? 
How  do  you  know  John  is  alive?" 

"Because  I  saw  him  first  a  month  before  the  end  of 
the  siege,  and  because  he  came  regularly  afterward  to 
fetch  away  some  provisions  which  I  had  placed  for  him." 
And  Walter  then  gave  a  full  account  of  John's  visit  to 
the  camp  in  search  of  food  for  the  children  who  were 
sheltered  in  the  tanner's  house. 

"That  is  just  like  John, "his  mother  said;  "he  was  ever 
thoughtful  for  others.  I  am  more  pleased  a  hundred 
times  that  he  should  have  so  risked  his  life  to  obtain 
food  for  the  little  ones  than  if  he  had  taken  part  in  the 
fighting  and  proved  himself  a  very  champion  of  Derry." 

Parliament  had  met  on  the  7th  of  May.  The  session 
had  been  opened  by  a  speech  from  the  throne,  in  which 
the  king  commended  the  loyalty  of  his  Irish  subjects,  de- 
clared his  intention  to  make  no  difference  between 
Catholics  and  Protestants,  and  that  loyalty  and  good  con- 
duct should  be  the  only  passport  to  his  favor.  He  stated 
his  earnest  wish  that  good  and  wholesome  laws  should  be 
enacted  for  the  encouragement  of  trade  and  of  the  man- 
ufactures of  the  country,  and  for  the  relief  of  such  as 


ORANGE  AND  GREEXT.  85 

had  suffered  injustice  by  the  Act  of  Settlement;  that  is, 
the  act  by  which  the  lands  of  the  Catholics  had  been 
handed  over  wholesale  to  Cromwell's  soldiers  and  other 
Protestants. 

Bills  were  speedily  passed  abolishing  the  jurisdiction 
of  English  courts  of  law  and  of  the  English  parliament  in 
Ireland,  and  other  bills  were  passed  for  the  regulation  of 
commerce  and  the  promotien  of  ship-building.  The  bill 
for  the  repeal  of  the  Act  of  Settlement  was  brought  up 
on  the  22d  of  May;  it  was  opposed  only  by  the  Protes- 
tant bishops  and  peers,  and  became  law  on  the  llth  of 
June.  Acts  of  attainder  were  speedily  passed  against 
some  two  thousand  Protestant  landed  proprietors,  all  of 
whom  had  obtained  their  lands  by  the  settlement  of 
Cromwell. 

A  land-tax  was  voted  to  the  king  of  twenty  thousand 
pounds  a  month,  and  he  proceeded  to  raise  other  levies 
by  his  private  authority.  The  result  was  that  the  re- 
sources of  Ireland  were  speedily  exhausted,  money  al- 
most disappeared,  and  James,  being  at  his  wits'  end  for 
funds,  issued  copper  money  stamped  with  the  value  of 
gold  and  silver;  and  a  law  was  passed  making  this  base 
money  legal  tender,  promising  that  at  the  end  of  the  war 
it  should  be  exchanged  for  sterling  money. 

This  was  a  measure  which  inflicted  enormous  loss  and 
damage.  At  first  the  people  raised  the  prices  of  goods 
in  proportion  to  the  decrease  in  the  value  of  the  money, 
but  James  stopped  this  by  issuing  a  proclamation  fixing 
the  prices  at  which  all  articles  were  to  be  sold;  and  hav- 
ing done  this,  proceeded  to  buy  up  great  quantities  of 
hides,  butter,  corn,  wood,  and  other  goods,  paying  for 
them  all  with  a  few  pounds  of  copper  and  tin,  and  then 
shipping  them  to  France,  where  they  were  sold  on  his 
own  account.  It  need  hardly  be  said  that  conduct  of 
this  kind  speedily  excited  great  dissatisfaction,  even 
among  those  who  were  most  loyal  in  his  cause. 


§6  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

Captain  Davenant  was  shocked  at  the  state  of  thing* 
he  found  prevailing  in  Dublin.  "I  regret  bitterly,"  he 
said  when  alone  with  his  wife  and  mother,  "that  I  have 
taken  up  the  sword.  Success  appears  to  me  to  be  hope- 
less. The  folly  of  the  Stuarts  is  incredible;  they  would 
ruin  the  best  cause  in  the  world.  With  a  spark  of  wis- 
dom and  firmness  James  might  have  united  all  Ireland  in 
his  cause,  instead  of  which  he  has  absolutely  forced  the 
Protestants  into  hostility.  His  folly  is  only  equaled  by 
his  rapacity,  and  both  are  stupendous." 

This  was  said  one  evening  when  he  had  just  returned 
from  a  visit  to  Dublin,  depressed  and  disheartened  by  all 
he  heard  there. 

"I  am  astonished,  Fergus,"  his  mother  said  sharply, 
"to  hear  you  speak  in  that  way.  "Who  would  have 
thought  that  it  was  a  Davenant  who  was  speaking! 
Doubtless  there  have  been  mistakes,  as  was  only  natural, 
but  everything  will  come  right  in  time.  I  have  been 
longing  for  you  to  come  home,  looking  forward  with  such 
joy  to  welcome  you  as  the  possessor  of  the  broad  lands  of 
the  Davenants.  Thank  God  I  have  lived  to  see  the  res- 
toration of  my  dear  husband's  lands,  and  the  discom- 
fiture of  those  Cromwellian  knaves  who  have  so  long  pos- 
sessed them.  It  was  a  grand  day  when  the  act  was 
passed  repealing  all  Cromwell's  grants  handing  over  the 
best  part  of  Ireland  to  his  soldiers;  and  I  saw  in  the 
Gazette,  among  the  two  thousand  grants  specially  men- 
tioned as  canceled  was  that  of  the  Davenant  estate  to 
Zephaniah  Whitefoot.  I  am  told  that  the  old  man  and 
his  son  have  taken  no  notice  of  the  act,  but  go  about 
their  work  as  if  they  were  still  the  owners  of  the  land; 
but  of  course,  now  that  you  are  back,  there  will  soon  be 
an  end  of  this." 

Captain  Davenant  was  silent. 

"I  shall  be  in  no  hurry,  mother, "he  said  after  a  pause. 


JOHN  EAGERLY  DEVOURED  THE  BOOKS  WHICH  WALTER  LENT  HIM. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  87 

"It  is  true  that  an  act  of  the  Irish  parliament  has  can- 
celed the  iniquitous  work  of  Cromwell,  and  restored  the 
land  to  its  rightful  possessors.  I  do  not  say  that  this  is 
not  just,  but  I  am  quite  sure  that  it  is  not  politic.  These 
men  have  been  planted  on  the  soil  for  two  generations; 
they  have  built  houses  and  tilled  the  fields,  and  made 
homes  for  themselves.  It  was  essentially  a  case  for  ar- 
rangement, and  not  for  setting  right  the  first  act  of  con- 
fiscation by  another  as  sweeping.  It  has  rendered  the 
Protestants  desperate;  it  has  enlisted  the  sympathy  of 
the  Protestants  of  England  in  their  behalf,  and  has  done 
much  to  popularize  the  war  there.  It  would  have  been 
vastly  wiser  had  a  commission  been  ordered  to  examine 
into  the  circumstances  of  each  case. 

"In  the  great  proportion  of  cases  the  estates  which  the 
Cromwellites  took  possession  of  were  vastly  larger  than 
they  were  able  to  till  themselves;  and,  as  in  the  case  of 
Zephaniah  Whitefoot,  they  let  out  the  greater  portion  to 
tenants.  All  these  lands  I  would  have  restored  to  their 
former  owners,  leaving  to  the  Cromwellites  the  land  they 
till  themselves  and  the  houses  they  have  built  upon  it. 

"As  to  turning  the  Whitefoots  out,  I  shall  certainly 
take  no  step  that  way  at  present:  it  will  be  time  enough 
to  do  so  when  King  James  is  firmly  established  on  the 
throne.  As  things  go  at  present  I  have  but  very  faint 
hopes  that  will  ever  be.  He  has  utterly  failed  to  con- 
quer the  Protestants  of  the  north  of  Ireland,  and  we 
have  all  the  strength  of  England  to  cope  with  yet.  It 
will  be  well,  mother,  if  at  the  end  of  this  strife  we  can 
keep  Davenant  Castle  over  our  heads,  with  the  few  acres 
that  still  remain  to  us." 

Two  days  afterward  Captain  Davenant  mounted  his 
horse  and  rode  over  to  the  Whitefoots.  Zephaniah  and 
Jabez  came  to  the  door. 

"I  suppose  you  have  come  over  to  turn  us  out,  Fergui 


88  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

Davenant/'  the  old  man  said;  "but  I  warn  you  that  it 
will  not  be  for  long.  The  triumph  of  the  ungodly  is 
short,  and  the  Lord  will  care  for  his  own  people." 

"You  are  mistaken/'  Captain  Davenant  said  quietly. 
"I  have  come  over  for  no  such  purpose.  I  am  of  course 
aware  that  parliament  has  passed  a  law  reinstating  me  in 
my  father's  lands;  but  I  came  over  to  tell  you  that  at 
present  I  do  not  propose  to  take  advantage  of  that  law. 
I  shall  do  nothing  until  this  war  is  at  an  end.  If  King 
William's  cause  triumphs,  the  act  will  remain  a  dead 
letter;  if  King  James'  wins,  and  the  act  is  upheld,  I  wish 
to  tell  you  that  I  shall  never  disturb  you  in  the  land 
which  you  yourselves  occupy.  Your  tenants,  on  the 
other  hand,  will  be  my  tenants;  but  in  the  house  which 
you  have  built,  and  in  the  fields  which  you  have  tilled, 
you  will  remain  masters. 

"I  have  thought  the  matter  over,  and  this  appears  to 
me  to  be  a  just  settlement,  and  one  which  I  give  you  my 
word  that  I  will  hold  to  should  King  James  triumph  in 
ihe  end.  I  think  that  the  law  turning  out  the  Protes- 
tant settlers  from  the  land  which  they  have  held  for 
forty  years  is  well-nigh  as  unjust  as  that  which  gave  it  to 
them." 

"I  will  take  no  gifts  at  the  hands  of  the  wicked," 
Zephaniah  began,  but  Jabez  interrupted  him. 

"Hush,  father!"  he  said,  "it  is  not  thus  that  kindness 
should  be  met."  Then  he  stepped  forward,  leaving  his 
father  too  surprised  at  this  sudden  assumption  of  com- 
mand on  the  part  of  his  son  to  interrupt  him. 

"Captain  Davenant,"  he  said,  "I  thank  you  most  sin- 
cerely on  the  part  of  myself,  my  wife  and  son,  and,  I  may 
say,  of  my  father  too,  although  at  present  he  may  not 
realize  the  kindness  of  your  offer.  I  do  not  think  it 
likely  that  if  James  Stuart  prevails,  and  Ireland  is  rent 
from  England,  we  shall  avail  ourselves  of  your  offer,  for 


OBANGE  AND  GREEN.  89 

we  have  more  than  sufficient  of  this  world's  goods  to  re- 
move to  England,  and  there  settle  ourselves  and  our  son, 
for  assuredly  Ireland  would  be  no  place  where  a  Protestant 
could  dwell  in  peace  and  quietness.  Nevertheless,  I 
thank  you  heartily,  and  shall  ever  gratefully  bear  in 
mind  the  promise  you  have  made,  and  the  fact  that,  al- 
though you  have  the  power  to  turn  us  from  our  home, 
you  have  stayed  from  doing  so.  There  has  been  much 
wrong  done  on  both  sides;  and,  from  a  boy,  when  I  have 
seen  you  ride  into  or  from  your  home,  I  have  felt  that  I 
and  mine  wronged  you  by  being  the  possessors  of  your 
father's  lands." 

"They  were  the  spoil  of  battle/'  Zephaniah  broke  in 
fiercely. 

"Yes,  they  were  the  spoil  of  battle,"  his  son  repeated; 
"but  there  are  limits  even  to  the  rights  of  conquerors.  I 
have  read  history,  and  I  know  that  nowhere  but  in  Ire- 
land did  conquerors  ever  dispossess  whole  peoples  and 
take  possession  of  their  lands." 

"The  Israelites  took  the  land  of  Canaan,"  Zephaniah 
interrupted. 

"I  am  speaking  of  modern  wars,  father.  For  centuries 
no  such  act  of  wholesale  spoliation  was  ever  perpetrated; 
and  considering,  as  I  do,  that  the  act  was  an  iniquitous 
one,  although  we  have  benefited  by  it,  I  consider  the 
offer  which  Captain  Davenant  has  made  to  us  to  be  a 
noble  one.  I  have  to  thank  you,  sir,  also,  for  your  kind- 
ness to  my  son — a  kindness  which  doubtless  saved  his  life 
as  well  as  that  of  many  others  in  Londonderry;  and 
believe  me  that,  whatever  comes  of  this  horrible  war,  I  and 
mine  will  never  forget  the  kindnesess  we  have  received  at 
your  hands." 

"The  affair  was  my  son's  rather  than  mine,"  Captain 
Davenant  said;  "but  I  was  glad  to  be  able  to  assist  him 
in  aiding  your  brave  boy.  He  is  a  noble  fellow,  and  you 
have  every  reason  to  be  proud  of  him." 


00  ORANQB  AND  QRES1T. 

"I  must  add  my  thanks  to  those  of  my  husband," 
Hannah  said,  coming  out  from  the  house,  having  listened 
to  the  conversation  through  an  open  window.  "We  had 
Buffered  so  until  your  son  brought  us  news  of  John  two 
days  since.  It  is  strange,  indeed,  that  your  son  should 
have  been  the  means  of  saving  one  of  a  household  whom 
he  cannot  but  have  learned  to  regard  as  the  usurpers  of 
his  father's  rights.  It  was  but  last  night  I  was  reading 
of  Jonathan  and  David,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  as- 
suredly the  same  spirit  that  they  felt  for  each  other  was 
in  our  sons." 

"The  boys  are  very  fond  of  each  other,  Mrs.  White- 
foot,  and  I  am  glad  of  it;  they  are  both  manly  fellows, 
and  there  is  no  reason  why  the  feuds  of  the  fathers 
should  descend  to  the  children." 

With  a  cordial  good-by  Capatin  Davenant  rode  off. 

"Jabez,"  Zephaniah  said,  as  they  turned  into  the 
house,  "I  had  not  thought  to  hear  a  son  of  mine  rise  in 
rebellion  against  his  father." 

"Father,"  Jabez  said,  "for  forty-five  years  I  have  been 
a  good  son  to  you;  but  it  is  time  that  I  took  my  stand. 
It  seems  to  me  that  the  principles  upon  which  the  sol- 
diers of  Cromwell  fought  were  the  principles  which 
animated  the  Israelites  of  old.  Exodus,  Judges,  and 
Kings  were  the  groundwork  of  their  religion,  not  the 
Gospels.  It  has  gradually  been  borne  upon  me  that  such 
is  not  the  religion  of  the  New  Testament,  and  while  I 
seek  in  no  way  to  dispute  your  right  to  think  as  you 
choose,  I  say  the  time  has  come  when  I  and  my  wife  will 
act  upon  our  principles." 

"It  is  written,  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother/' 
Zephaniah  said  sternly. 

"Ay,  father,  I  have  honored  you,  and  I  shall  honor  you 
to  the  end;  but  a  man  has  no  right  to  give  up  his  con- 
science to  his  father;  for  it  is  written  also  that  a  man 


ORANGE  AND  QREEN.  91 

shall  leave  father  and  mother,  and  wife  and  home  to 
follow  the  Lord.  I  have  heard,  you,  father,  and  the 
elders  of  our  church,  quote  abundant  texts  from  Scrip- 
ture, but  never  one  that  I  can  recall  from  the  New  Testa- 
ment. Hitherto  I  have  been  as  an  Israelite  of  Joshua's 
time,  henceforward  I  hope  to  be  a  Christian.  I  grieve  to 
anger  you,  father,  and  for  years  I  have  held  my  peace 
rather  than  do  so;  but  the  time  has  come  when  the 
spirit  within  me  will  no  longer  permit  me  to  hold  my 
peace.  In  all  worldly  matters  I  am  still  your  obedient 
son,  ready  to  labor  to  my  utmost  to  gather  up  wealth 
which  I  do  not  enjoy,  to  live  a  life  as  hard  as  that  of  the 
poorest  tenant  on  our  lands;  but,  as  touching  higher 
matters,  I  and  my  wife  go  our  own  way." 

Without  a  word  Zephaniah  took  his  hat  and  strode 
away  from  the  house,  and,  after  much  angry  communing 
with  himself,  went  to  the  minister  and  deacons  of  his 
chapel,  and  laid  the  facts  of  the  rebellion  before  them 
and  asked  their  advice. 

They  were  in  favor  of  peace,  for  two  of  them  were  his 
tenants,  and  they  knew  that  the  time  could  not  be  very 
far  off  when  Jabez  would  take  the  old  man's  place,  and 
it  would  be  a  serious  matter  indeed  to  the  chapel  were  he 
to  be  driven  from  its  fold. 

"We  cannot  expect  that  all  shall  see  with  our  eyes, 
Zephaniah,"  the  minister  said,  "and,  indeed,  the  offer 
which  thou  sayest  the  man  Davenant  made  was  a  gener- 
ous one.  It  would  be  well  indeed  for  our  brethren 
throughout  Ireland  did  all  the  original  owners  of  their 
lands  so  treat  them.  Thousands  who  but  a  few  months 
since  were  prosperous  men  are  now  without  a  shelter 
wherein  to  lay  their  heads.  The  storm  is  sweeping  over 
us,  the  elect  are  everywhere  smitten,  and  should  James 
Stuart  conquer,  not  a  Protestant  in  Ireland  but  must 
leave  its  shores.  Therefore,  although  I  would  counsel 


92  OBANOB  AND  GREE2T. 

no  giving  up  of  principle,  no  abandonment  of  faith,  jet 
I  would  say  that  this  is  no  time  for  the  enforcement  of 
our  views  upon  weak  vessels.  I  mourn  that  your  son 
should  for  the  time  have  fallen  away  from  your  high 
standard,  but  I  say  it  were  best  to  be  patient  with  him." 

At  home  there  were  few  words  spoken  after  Zephaniah 
had  gone  out.  Hannah  had  thrown  her  arms  round  her 
husband's  neck,  and  had  said: 

"I  thank  God  for  your  words,  Jabez.  Now  I  am  proud 
of  you  as  I  have  never  been  proud  before,  that  you  have 
boldly  spoken  out  for  liberty  of  conscience.  I  feel  like 
one  who  has  for  many  years  been  a  slave,  but  who  is  at 
last  free." 

Jabez  kissed  her,  but  was  silent.  To  him  it  had  been 
a  great  trial  to  rebel;  he  knew  that  he,  was  right,  and 
would  have  done  it  again  if  necessary;  but  it  was  a  ter- 
rible thing  to  him  to  have  openly  withstood  the  father  to 
whom  he  had  from  childhood  rendered  almost  implicit  obe- 
dience. On  his  return  Zephaniah  did  not  renew  the  sub- 
ject; but  from  that  time  there  was  a  great  change  in  the 
moral  atmosphere  of  the  house.  Zephauiah  was  still 
master  in  all  matters  of  daily  work;  but  in  other  respect* 
Jabez  had  completely  emancipated  himself. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

DUNDALK. 

AFTER  the  failure  before  Derry  the  utmost  confusion 
prevailed  in  the  military  councils,  arising  chiefly  from 
the  jealousies  and  conflicting  authorities  of  the  French 
and  Irish  commanders.  James  was  entirely  under  the 
control  of  the  French  ambassador,  who,  together  with  all 
his  countrymen  in  Ireland,  affected  to  despise  the  Irish 
as  a  rude  and  uncivilized  people;  while  the  Irish  in  turn 
hated  the  French  for  their  arrogance  and  insolence. 
Many  of  the  Irish  gentlemen  who  had  raised  regiments 
at  their  private  expense  were  superseded  to  make  room 
for  Frenchmen  appointed  by  the  influence  of  the  French 
ambassador.  These  gentlemen  returned  home  in  dis- 
gust, and  were  soon  followed  by  their  men,  who  were 
equally  discontented  at  being  handed  over  to  the  com- 
mand of  foreigners  instead  of  their  native  leaders. 

Every  day  the  breach  widened  between  the  French  and 
Irish,  and  the  discontent  caused  by  the  king's  exactions 
was  wide  and  general;  and  if  William  at  this  time  had 
offered  favorable  terms  to  the  Catholics  it  is  probable 
that  an  arrangement  could  have  been  arrived  at.  But 
William  was  busily  at  work  preparing  an  army  for  the 
conquest  of  the  country.  Had  Ireland  stood  alone  it  is 
probable  that  England  would,  at  any  rate  for  a  time, 
have  suffered  it  to  go  its  own  way;  but  its  close  alliance 
with  France,  and  the  fact  that  French  influence  was  all- 
powerful  with  James,  rendered  it  impossible  for  England 


94  ORANGE  AND  ORBBlf. 

to  submit  to  the  establishment  of  what  would  be  a  for- 
eign and  hostile  power  so  close  to  her  shores.  Besides, 
if  Ireland  remained  under  the  dominion  of  James,  the 
power  of  William  on  the  throne  of  England  could  never 
have  been  consolidated. 

Although  he  had  met  with  no  resistance  on  his  as- 
sumption of  the  throne,  he  had  the  hearty  support  of  but 
a  mere  fraction  of  the  English  people,  and  his  accession 
was  the  work  of  a  few  great  Whig  families  only.  His 
rule  was  by  no  means  popular,  and  his  Dutch  favorites 
were  as  much  disliked  in  England  as  were  James'  French 
adherents  in  Ireland. 

In  Scotland  the  Jacobite  party  were  numerous  and 
powerful,  and  were  in  open  rebellion  to  his  authority. 
Thus,  then,  if  William's  position  on  the  throne  of  Eng- 
land was  to  be  consolidated,  it  was  necessary  that  a  blow 
should  be  struck  in  Ireland. 

Torn  by  dissension,  without  plan  or  leading,  the  Irish 
army  remained  for  months  inactive,  most  of  the  regi- 
ments having  after  the  northern  campaign  returned  to 
the  districts  in  which  they  were  raised;  and  thus  no  pre- 
paration was  made  to  meet  the  army  which  was  prepar- 
ing to  invade  the  country.  This,  ten  thousand  strong, 
under  the  command  of  General  Schomberg,  who,  al- 
though eighty  years  of  age,  was  still  an  able,  active,  and 
spirited  commander,  embarked  on  the  8th  of  August  at 
Chester,  and  on  the  13th  landed  near  Bangor,  in  Car- 
rickfergus  Bay.  There  was  no  force  there  of  sufficient 
strength  to  oppose  him. 

Schomberg  found  Antrim  and  Belfast  deserted;  but 
the  garrison  at  Carrickfergus,  consisting  of  two  regi- 
ments, prepared  vigorously  for  a  siege.  Schomberg  at 
once  prepared  to  invest  it,  and  in  a  short  time  attacked 
it  by  land  and  sea.  The  siege  was  pressed  with  vigor, 
but  the  garrison  under  McCarty  Moore  defended  them- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  95 

selves  with  the  greatest  skill  and  bravery.  As  fast  as 
breaches  were  battered  in  their  walls  they  repaired  them, 
and  repulsed  every  attempt  of  the  besiegers  to  gain  a 
footing  in  the  town. 

The  garrison  were  badly  supplied  with  ammunition, 
but  they  stripped  the  lead  from  the  roofs  of  the  castle 
and  church  to  make  bullets.  But  all  this  time  no  at- 
tempt whatever  was  made  to  relieve  them.  The  French 
and  Irish  generals  were  disputing  as  to  what  was  the  best 
plan  of  campaign.  The  king  was  busy  making  money 
with  his  trade  with  France;  and,  after  holding  out  until 
they  had  burned  their  last  grain  of  powder,  the  gallant 
garrison  were  forced  to  capitulate.  Schomberg  was  too 
glad  to  get  the  place  to  insist  on  hard  terms,  and  the 
garrison  marched  out  with  all  the  honors  of  war — drums 
beating,  and  matches  alight — and  were  conveyed  with  all 
their  stores,  arms,  and  public  and  private  property  to  the 
nearest  Irish  post. 

The  effect  of  this  determined  resistance  on  the  part  of 
the  little  garrison  at  Carrickfergus  was  to  impress  Schom- 
berg with  the  fact  that  the  difficulty  of  the  task  he  had 
undertaken  was  vastly  greater  than  he  had  supposed. 
The  success  with  which  Londonderry  had  defended  itself 
against  the  Irish  army  had  impressed  him  with  the  idea 
that  the  levies  of  King  James  were  simply  contemptible; 
but  the  fighting  qualities  of  the  garrison  of  Carrickfer- 
gus had  shown  him  that  they  were  a  foe  by  no  means  to 
be  despised,  and  convinced  him  that  the  force  at  his  com- 
mand was  altogether  inadequate  to  his  necessities. 

He  therefore  moved  south  with  extreme  caution.  He 
found  the  country  altogether  wasted  and  deserted.  The 
Protestants  had  long  since  fled,  and  were  gathered  round 
Derry  and  Enniskillen.  The  Catholics  had  now  deserted 
their  homes  at  his  approach,  and  the  troops  in  their  re- 
treat had  burned  and  wasted  everything,  so  that  he  had 


96  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

no  means  of  subsistence  for  his  army,  and  was  obliged  to 
rely  upon  the  fleet  which  he  ordered  to  follow  him  down 
the  coast.  Schomberg  was  soon  joined  by  three  regi- 
ments of  Enniskillen  horse. 

The  appearance  of  these  troops  astonished  the  English. 
They  resembled  rather  a  horde  of  Italian  banditti  than  a 
body  of  European  cavalry.  They  observed  little  order  in 
their  military  movements,  and  no  uniformity  of  dress  or 
accouterment.  Each  man  was  armed  and  clad  according 
to  his  own  fancy,  and  accompanied  by  a  mounted  servant 
carrying  his  baggage.  But,  like  the  Cossacks  whom  they 
closely  resembled,  they  were  distinguished  by  an  extreme 
rapidity  of  movement,  and  a  fierceness  and  contempt  of 
all  difficulty  and  danger.  They  calculated  neither 
chances  nor  numbers,  but  rushed  to  the  attack  of  any  foe 
with  a  ferocity  and  fanaticism  which  almost  insured  suc- 
cess, and  they  regarded  the  slaughter  of  a  Papist  as  an 
acceptable  service  to  the  Lord.  They  plundered  wher- 
ever they  went,  and  were  a  scourge  to  the  Irish  Protes- 
tants as  well  as  Catholics. 

The  troops  furnished  by  Derry  were  similar  in  char- 
acter to  those  from  Enniskillen.  They  could  not  endure 
the  restraints  of  discipline,  and  were  little  use  in  acting 
with  the  regular  army,  and,  like  the  Cossacks,  were 
formidable  only  when  acting  by  themselves.  Schomberg 
and  his  successor,  and,  indeed,  the  whole  of  the  English 
officers,  soon  came  to  abhor  these  savage  and  undisci- 
plined allies. 

Still  the  Irish  army  made  no  move.  Report  had  mag- 
nified Schomberg's  strength  to  more  than  twice  its  real 
numbers,  and  the  military  leaders  could  not  believe  that, 
after  so  many  months  of  preparation,  William  had  dis- 
patched so  small  an  army  for  the  conquest  of  Ireland. 

Confusion  and  dismay  reigned  in  Dublin.  The  French 
Marshal  De  Rosen  advised  that  Dublin  and  Drogheda 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  97 

should  be  abandoned,  and  that  the  Irish  army  should  be 
concentrated  at  Athlone  and  Limerick;  but  Tyrconnell 
went  to  Drogheda,  where  the  council  of  war  was  sitting, 
and  strenuously  opposed  this,  promising  that  by  the  next 
night  twenty  thousand  men  should  be  assembled  there. 
Expresses  were  sent  out  in  all  directions;  and  by  forced 
marches  the  Irish  troops  stationed  in  Munster  directed 
their  course  to  Drogheda,  in  high  spirits  and  anxious  to 
meet  the  enemy.  Schomberg,  although  he  had  been  re- 
inforced by  six  thousand  men  from  England,  fell  back  at 
the  news  of  the  gathering,  and  formed  an  intrenched 
camp  in  a  strong  position  between  Dundalk  and  the  sea. 
His  approaches  were  covered  by  mountains,  rivers,  and 
morasses;  his  communication  was  open  to  the  sea,  and 
here  he  resolved  to  wait  for  reinforcements. 

Captain  Davenant  became  more  and  more  despondent 
as  to  the  cause  in  which  he  had  embarked. 

"Without  the  king  and  without  his  French  allies,"  he 
said  bitterly  to  his  wife,  "we  might  hope  for  success;  but 
these  are  enough  to  ruin  any  cause.  Were  the  king's 
object  to  excite  discontent  and  disgust  among  his  sub- 
jects, he  could  not  act  otherwise  than  he  is  now  doing. 
His  whole  thoughts  are  devoted  to  wringing  money  out 
of  the  people,  and  any  time  he  has  to  spare  is  spent  upon 
superintending  the  building  of  the  nunneries  in  which  he 
is  so  interested.  As  to  the  French,  they  paralyze  all  mil- 
itary operations.  They  regard  us  as  an  inferior  race,  and 
act  as  if,  with  their  own  five  or  six  thousand  troops,  they 
could  defeat  all  the  power  of  England.  It  is  heart- 
breaking seeing  our  chances  so  wasted. 

"Had  advantage  been  taken  of  the  enthusiasm  excited 
when  King  James  landed;  had  he  himself  been  wise  and 
prudent,  disinterested  for  himself,  and  desirous  of  ob- 
taining the  affections  of  all  classes;  and  had  he  brought 
with  him  none  of  these  French  adventurers,  he  would 


gg  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

long  ere  this  have  been  undisputed  King  of  Ireland  from 
end  to  end,  and  we  should  have  stood  as  one  people  in 
arms  ready  to  oppose  ourselves  to  any  force  that  England 
could  send  against  us.  Never  were  chances  so  frittered 
away,  never  such  a  succession  of  blunders  and  folly.  It 
is  enough  to  break  one's  heart." 

"I  do  hope,- father,  that  when  the  troop  marches  again 
you  will  take  me  as  cornet.  I  am  six  months  older  than 
I  was,  and  have  learned  a  lot  in  the  last  campaign.  You 
have  not  filled  up  the  place  of  Cornet  O'Driscoll.  I  did 
think,  when  he  was  killed  in  that  last  fight  you  had  be- 
fore Derry,  you  would  have  appointed  me." 

"In  some  respects  I  am  less  inclined  than  ever, 
Walter/'  Captain  Davenant  said;  "for  I  begin  to  regard 
success  as  hopeless." 

"It  will  make  no  difference,  father,  in  that  way,  for  if 
we  are  beaten  they  are  sure  to  hand  all  our  land  over  to 
the  Protestants.  Besides,  things  may  turn  out  better 
than  you  think;  and  whether  or  no,  I  should  certainly 
like  to  do  my  best  for  Ireland." 

"Well,  we  will  think  about  it,"  Captain  Davenant  said; 
and  Walter  was  satisfied,  for  he  felt  sure  that  his  father 
would  finally  accede  to  his  wishes. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  the  mounted  messenger 
dashed  up  to  the  door  of  the  castle  and  handed  in  an 
order.  Captain  Davenant  opened  it. 

"We  are  to  march  in  half  an  hour's  time  to  Drogheda; 
the  whole  army  is  to  assemble  there." 

"Hurray!"  Walter  shouted.  "Something  is  going  to 
be  done  at  last." 

A  man  was  sent  down  to  the  village  at  once  to  order 
the  twenty  men  quartered  there  to  saddle  and  mount  in- 
stantly and  ride  up  to  the  castle,  while  another  on  horse- 
back started  for  Bray  to  get  the  main  body  under  arms. 
Mrs.  Davenaut  busied  herself  in  packing  the  wallets  of 


ORANGE  AND  QRBEN.  99 

her  husband  and  son.     She  was  very  pale,  but  she  said 

little. 

"God  bless  you  both,"  she  said  when  all  was  finished, 
"and  bring  you  back  again  safely.  I  won't  ask  you  to 
take  care  of  yourselves,  because,  of  course,  you  must  do 
your  duty,  and  with  all  my  love  I  should  not  wish  you  to 
draw  back  from  that.  When  home  and  religion  and 
country  are  at  stake  even  we  women  could  not  wish  to 
keep  those  we  love  beside  us." 

There  was  a  last  embrace,  and  then  Captain  Davenant 
and  his  son  sprang  on  their  horses,  which  were  waiting  at 
the  door,  took  their  place  at  the  head  of  the  party  which 
had  come  up  from  the  village,  and  rode  away  into  the 
darkness,  while  the  two  Mrs.  Davenants  gave  free  vent 
to  the  tears  which  they  had  hitherto  so  bravely  restrained. 
At  Bray  Captain  Davenant  found  the  rest  of  his  troop 
drawn  up  in  readiness,  and  after  a  brief  inspection,  to 
see  that  all  were  present  with  their  proper  arms  and  ac- 
couterments,  he  started  with  them  for  Dublin,  and  after 
a  few  hours'  rest  there  continued  his  way  toward  Drog- 
heda. 

The  army  then  proceeded  north  to  Dundalk,  and  bitter 
was  the  disappointment  of  the  troops  when,  on  arriving 
there,  they  found  that  Schomberg,  instead  of  advancing 
to  give  battle,  had  shut  himself  up  in  the  intrenchments 
he  had  formed,  and  could  not  be  induced  to  sally  out. 

In  vain  King  James,  who  accompanied  his  army, 
formed  it  up  in  order  of  battle  within  sight  of  the  in- 
vaders' lines.  Schomberg  was  not  to  be  tempted  out, 
and  as  the  position  appeared  to  be  too  strong  to  be  at- 
tacked, the  Irish  were  forced  to  endeavor  to  reduce  it  by 
the  slow  process  of  starvation.  The  English  army  was 
soon  reduced  to  pitiable  straits — not  from  hunger,  for 
they  were  able  to  obtain  food  from  the  ships,  but  from 
disease.  The  situation  of  the  camp  waa  low  and  un- 


100  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

healthy.  Fever  broke  out,  and  swept  away  vast  numbers 
of  the  men. 

The  Dutch  and  Enniskilleners  suffered  comparatively 
little — both  were  accustomed  to  a  damp  climate,  but  of 
the  English  troops  nearly  eight  thousand  died  in  the  two 
months  that  the  blockade  lasted.  Had  James  maintained 
his  position  the  whole  of  the  army  of  Schomberg  must 
have  perished;  but,  most  unfortunately  for  his  cause,  he 
insisted  on  personally  conducting  operations,  and  when 
complete  success  was  in  his  grasp  he  marched  his  army 
away  in  the  middle  of  November  to  winter  quarters, 
thereby  allowing  Schomberg  to  move  with  the  eight 
thousand  men  who  remained  to  him  from  the  pest- 
stricken  camp  to  healthier  quarters. 

The  disgust  of  those  of  James'  officers  who  under- 
stood anything  of  war  at  this  termination  of  the  cam- 
paign was  extreme.  The  men,  indeed,  were  eager  to  re- 
turn to  their  homes,  but  would  gladly  have  attempted  an 
assault  on  the  English  camp  before  doing  so;  and  as  the 
defenders  were  reduced  to  half  their  original  strength, 
while  most  of  the  survivors  were  weakened  by  disease, 
the  attack  would  probably  have  been  successful.  James 
himself  was  several  times  on  the  point  of  ordering"an  at- 
tack, but  his  own  vacillation  of  character  was  heightened 
by  the  conflicting  counsels  of  his  generals,  who  seemed 
more  bent  on  thwarting  each  other  than  on  gaining  the 
cause  for  which  they  fought. 

The  cavalry  were  not  idle  while  the  blockade  of  Schom- 
berg's  camp  continued,  frequeutly  making  excursions 
over  the  country  to  bring  in  cattle  for  the  army,  for  the 
villagers  had  for  the  most  part  deserted  their  homes,  and 
herds  of  cattle  were  grazing  without  masters.  One  day 
Captain  Davenant/s  troop  had  ridden  some  thirty  miles 
out  of  camp,  and  had  halted  for  the  night  in  a  village. 
In  the  morning  they  broke  up  into  small  parties  and  scat- 


ORANGE  A&1)  GREEK.  101 

tered  round  the  country.  Walter,  with  fifteen  of  the 
troopers,  had  collected  some  cattle  and  stopped  for  an 
hour  to  feed  and  rest  the  horses  in  a  deserted  village. 
He  took  the  precaution  to  place  two  or  three  men  on 
sentry  round  it. 

The  men  were  sitting  on  the  doorsteps  eating  the  food 
they  had  brought  with  them,  when  one  of  the  outposts 
dashed  in  at  full  gallop,  shouting  that  the  enemy  were 
upon  them;  but  his  warning  came  too  late,  for  close  be- 
hind him  came  a  body  of  wild-looking  horsemen,  shout- 
ing and  yelling.  There  was  a  cry  of  "The  Enniskillen- 
ers!"  and  the  men  ran  to  their  horses.  They  had 
scarcely  time  to  throw  themselves  in  the  saddle  when  the 
Enniskilleners  charged  down.  For  a  minute  or  two  there 
was  a  confused  medley,  and  then  three  or  four  of  the 
troopers  rode  off  at  full  speed  hotly  pursued  by  the  En- 
niskilleners. 

Walter  had  discharged  his  pistols  and  drawn  his  sword, 
but  before  he  had  timo  to  strike  a  blow  his  horse  was 
rolled  over  by  the  rush  of  the  enemy,  and  as  he  was  fall- 
ing he  received  a  blow  on  the  head  from  a  saber  which, 
stretched  him  insensible  on  the  ground.  He  was  roused 
by  two  men  turning  him  over  and  searching  his  pockets. 
A  slight  groan  burst  from  his  lips. 

"The  fellow  is  not  dead,"  one  of  the  men  said. 

"We  will  soon,  settle  that,"  the  other  replied. 

"Don't  kill  him,"  the  first  speaker  said.  "Wait  till 
the  captain  has  spoken  to  him.  We  may  be  able  to  get 
some  information  from  him.  We  can  finish  him  after- 
ward." 

Walter  lay  with  his  eyes  closed.  He  well  knew  that  the 
Enniskilleners  took  no  prisoners,  but  killed  all  who  fell 
into  their  hands,  and  he  determined  to  show  no  signs  of 
returning  consciousness.  Presently  he  heard  the  sound 
pi  a  party  of  horsemen  returning,  and  by  the  exclama- 


1<X|  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

tions  of  disappointment  which  greeted  the  news  they 
gave,  he  learned  that  some,  at  least,  of  his  men  had 
made  their  escape.  Some  time  later  several  men  came 
up  to  him.  One  leaned  over  him  and  put  his  hand  to  his 
heart. 

"He  is  alive." 

"Very  well,"  another  voice  said.  "Then  we  will  take 
him  with  us.  He  is  an  officer,  and  will  be  able  to  tell  us 
all  about  their  strength.  Watkins,  you  have  a  strong 
beast,  and  do  not  weigh  much.  Do  you  mount,  and  then 
we  will  tie  him  to  your  back." 

A  minute  later  Walter  was  lifted  up  and  felt  that  he 
was  placed  on  a  horse  with  his  back  to  that  of  the  rider. 
A  rope  was  wound  several  times  round  his  body.  He  re- 
mained perfectly  passive,  with  his  head  hanging  down  on 
his  breast.  Then  a  word  of  command  was  given  and  the 
troop  set  off. 

For  a  time  there  was  no  need  for  him  to  pretend  in- 
sensibility, for  the  pain  of  his  wound  and  the  loss  of 
blood  overpowered  him,  and  for  some  time  he  was  un- 
conscious. After  two  hours'  riding  the  troop  was  halted. 
Walter  felt  the  rope  taken  off  him.  Then  he  was  lifted 
down,  dragged  a  short  distance,  and  thrown  down  on 
some  straw.  Then  a  door  shut,  and  he  heard  a  key  turned. 
He  felt  sure  that  he  was  alone,  but  for  some  time  lay 
perfectly  quiet,  as  it  was  possible  that  one  of  the  men 
might  have  remained  to  watch  him. 

After  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  hearing  not  the  slightest 
sound,  he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  round.  He  was, 
as  he  supposed,  alone.  The  place  in  which  he  was  lying 
was  a  stable,  lighted  only  by  a  small  opening  high  up  in 
the  wall.  Certain,  therefore,  that  he  was  not  overlooked, 
he  made  an  effort  to  rise  to  his  feet,  but  he  was  so  weak 
and  giddy  that  he  was  obliged  for  some  time  to  vemain 
leaning  against  the  wall.  Seeing  a  bucket  in  one  corner. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  108 

he  made  to  it,  and  found  to  his  delight  that  it  wae  half- 
full  of  water,  for  he  was  parched  with  a  devouring 
thirst.  After  taking  a  deep  draught  he  felt  greatly  re- 
vived, and  then  made  a  thorough  survey  of  his  prison. 
It  evidently  formed  part  of  the  house  of  a  well-to-do 
man,  for  it  was  solidly  built  of  stone,  and  the  door  was 
strong  and  well  fitted. 

The  opening  in  the  wall  was  out  of  his  reach.  He  could 
at  ordinary  times,  by  standing  on  the  upturned  bucket, 
have  reached  it  with  a  spring,  and  pulled  himself  up  to 
it,  but  at  present  he  was  wholly  incapable  of  such  exer- 
tion. He  thought,  however,  that  after  a  night's  rest  he 
would  be  able  to  do  it. 

The  door  was  so  strong  that  he  had  no  hope  of  escape 
in  that  direction.  As  he  might  at  any  moment  be  dis- 
turbed, he  returned  to  the  straw  on  which  he  had  at  first 
been  thrown,  laid  himself  down,  and  in  a  very  short  time 
dropped  off  to  sleep.  It  was  dark  before  he  was  awoke 
by  the  turning  of  the  key  in  the  lock,  and  two  men  en- 
tered, one  of  them  bearing  a  horn  lantern. 

" Where  am  I?"  Walter  asked  in  a  feeble  tone  as  they 
approached  him. 

"Never  mind  where  you  are,"  one  said  roughly.  "Get 
up." 

Walter  seemed  to  make  an  effort,  and  then  fell  back 
with  a  groan. 

The  man  repeated  his  order,  emphasizing  it  with  a 
kick.  Walter  again  made  an  effort,  and  as  before  sank 
back. 

"Here,  catch  hold  of  him/'  the  man  said  impatiently, 
"it's  no  use  fooling  here  with  him." 

The  men  took  Walter  under  the  arms  and  lifted  him 
up,  and  half-dragged,  half-carried  him  out  of  the  stable 
and  into  the  house  adjoining.  He  was  taken  into  a  room 
where  four  or  five  men  were  sitting. 


104  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"Now,  young  fellow/'  one  said  sharply,  "tell  us  what 
corps  you  belong  to." 

Walter  looked  stupidly  at  his  questioner,  but  made  no 
answer. 

"Answer  my  question,"  the  man  said,  leveling  a  pistol 
at  him,  "or  I  will  blow  out  your  brains  at  once." 

Still  Walter  stared  at  him  stupidly  and  made  no  reply, 
except  to  mutter  "Water/' 

"It's  no  use,"  one  of  the  other  men  said;  "he  hasn't 
got  his  right  senses  yet.  It's  no  use  shooting  him  now, 
after  we  have  had  the  trouble  of  bringing  him  here.  In 
the  morning  he  will  be  able  to  answer  you." 

"He  had  better,"  the  other  said  savagely,  "or  we  will 
light  a  fire  and  roast  him  over  it.  There,  take  him  back 
to  the  stable  and  give  him  a  drink  of  water.  I  don't 
want  him  to  slip  through  our  fingers  after  the  trouble  we 
have  had  with  him." 

Walter  was  taken  back  as  before  to  the  stable,  and  one 
of  the  men  brought  him  a  mug  of  water  and  held  it  to 
liis  lips.  He  drank  eagerly,  and  then  the  man  placed 
the  mug  down  beside  him,  the  door  was  again  closed  and 
locked,  and  Walter  was  alone.  He  rose  at  once  to  his 
feet,  and  felt  that  his  sleep  had  greatly  refreshed  and 
strengthened  him. 

"I  will  have  another  sleep  before  I  try,"  he  said  to 
himself.  "It  will  not  be  light  till  six,  and  it  must  be 
eight  or  nine  o'clock  now.  I  must  make  up  my  mind, 
before  I  doze  off,  to  wake  in  about  three  or  four  hours; 
but  first  I  must  see  what  I  can  find  here." 

He  felt  round  the  walls,  but  failed  to  find  anything 
like  a  rope. 

"I  must  trust  to  luck,"  he  said;  "I  don't  suppose  they 
will  post  many  sentries.  These  fellows  are  not  real  sol- 
diers, and  no  doubt  they  will  all  be  sound  asleep  in  a 
couple  of  hours. " 


ORANGE  AND  GREEK.  105 

So  saying,  he  again  lay  down,  and  was  speedily  asleep. 
When  he  woke  he  felt  sure  that  he  had  not  exceeded  the 
time  he  had  given  himself.  He  listened  intently.  He 
could  hear  a  low  confused  sound,  which  he  knew  was 
made  by  horses  feeding,  but  he  could  hear  no  human 
voices.  He  drank  the  rest  of  the  water  in  the  mug,  then 
he  turned  up  the  bucket,  placed  it  under  the  opening, 
and  mounted  on  it. 

His  first  spring  failed  to  reach  the  sill,  and  he  stood 
for  a  few  minutes  before  making  another  attempt.  He 
knew  that  it  was  a  matter  of  life  or  death,  for  he  had  no 
doubt  whatever  that,  even  if  he  gave  the  required  infor- 
mation, which  he  was  determined  not  to  do,  however 
much  he  might  suffer,  he  would  be  shot  afterward.  He 
braced  himself  to  the  utmost,  took  a  long  breath,  and 
then  sprang.  His  fingers  caught  on  the  ledge  of  stone- 
work, and  with  a  desperate  effort  he  drew  himself  up, 
aided  by  his  feet.  He  had  before  making  the  attempt 
removed  his  boots,  partly  to  avoid  the  scraping  noise 
which  these  would  make,  partly  to  enable  him  the  better 
to  avail  himself  of  the  inequalities  in  the  stone-work. 

It  was  a  desperate  struggle;  and  when  he  got  his 
shoulders  in  the  opening,  which  was  just  wide  enough  to 
admit  them,  he  lay  for  three  or  four  minutes  panting 
heavily,  with  the  perspiration  streaming  down  his  face. 
The  aperture  was  too  small  to  admit  of  his  turning  in 
any  way,  and  there  was  nothing  for  it,  as  he  knew,  but 
to  drop  headforemost. 

Gradually  he  drew  himself  through  the  opening,  low- 
ering himself  as  much  as  he  could  by  holding  on  to  the 
upper  edge  by  his  feet.  Then  stretching  out  his  arms 
to  save  himself,  he  let  go.  Fortunately  the  ground  was 
soft,  for  a  garden  adjoined  the  stable;  but  the  shock  was 
a  heavy  one,  and  he  lay  for  a  minute  or  two  without  moy- 
ing,  having  some  doubt  whether  he  had  not  broken  his 
neck.  Then  he  got  up  and  listened. 


106  ORANQB  AND  QRBBN. 

Everything  was  still  and  quiet,  and  indeed  his  fall  had 
been  almost  noiseless;  he  rose  to  his  feet,  felt  along  the 
wall  until  he  encountered  a  low  paling,  climbed  over  it, 
and  was  in  the  road.  He  had,  when  he  jumped  for  the 
window,  tied  his  boots  to  his  back,  and  now  carried  them 
in  his  hand.  The  night  was  very  dark;  but  his  eyes,  ac- 
customed to  the  greater  darkness  of  the  stable,  had  no 
difficulty  in  following  the  road.  He  walked  slowly,  for 
the  exertion  he  had  undergone  and  the  shock  of  the  fall 
had  drawn  greatly  from  his  small  stock  of  strength. 

After  going  a  quarter  of  a  mile  he  put  on  his  boots, 
and,  climbing  a  wall  of  sods  which  bordered  the  roads 
struck  across  country.  There  were  no  stars  to  guide 
him,  and  a  slight  mist  had  begun  to  fall.  There  was  but 
little  wind,  but  this  was  sufficient  to  give  a  direction  to 
the  rain.  Walter  noticed  this,  and  at  once  struck  out  in 
a  direction  which  kept  the  rain  falling  upon  the  right 
lide  of  his  face;  and  he  knew  that,  by  so  continuing,  he 
was  going  in  a  tolerably  straight  line.  As  near  as  he 
could  tell  he  walked  for  two  hours,  and  then,  utterly  ex- 
hausted, lay  down  on  the  lee  side  of  a  turf  wall. 

There  was  as  yet  no  gleam  of  light  in  the  sky,  and  in  a 
very  few  minutes  he  was  again  sound  asleep.  He  woke 
up  with  a  feeling  of  bitter  cold,  and  on  rising  found  that 
his  limbs  were  completely  stiffened  by  the  wet.  It  was 
morning  now,  the  wind  had  got  up,  and  a  driving  rain 
shut  out  the  view  on  all  sides.  Walter  stamped  his  feet 
and  swung  his  arms  for  some  time  to  restore  the  circu- 
lation. 

He  had  no  idea  in  which  direction  he  had  been  travel- 
ing, for  he  did  not  know  whether  the  road  from  which 
he  had  started  ran  north,  south,  east,  or  west.  He 
noticed  that  the  wind  had  changed;  for  whereas  he  had 
lain  down  under  the  lee  of  the  wall,  it  was  now  the 
weather  side.  He  walked  in  the  same  direction  as  before 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  107 

for  two  hours,  and  could  then  go  no  further.  He  had 
seen  no  signs  of  human  habitation,  and  had  not  crossed 
a  road  or  even  a  footpath.  Since  starting  in  the  morn- 
ing ho  had  passed  no  more  walls  or  fences,  and,  as  far  as 
his  eye  could  reach  through  the  driving  rain,  nothing  waa 
to  be  seen  save  a  desolate  expanse  of  moor  and  bog.  He 
was  at  any  rate  free  from  pursuit  for  the  time,  and  he 
thought  more  of  obtaining  food  and  shelter  than  of  the 
Enniskilleners. 

It  was  useless  pushing  further  on,  even  had  he  been 
able  to  do  so,  while  the  rain  lasted;  for  he  might  have 
passed  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  a  habitation  without 
seeing  it.  He  accordingly  threw  himself  down  beside 
some  low  bushes,  which  afforded  him  some  slight  protec- 
tion from  the  ram. 


108  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    COMING     BATTLE. 

SOME  hours  passed,  and  he  was  on  the  point  of  drop- 
ping off  to  sleep  again  when  he  heard  a  whistle  repeated 
once  or  twice,  followed  by  the  sharp  bark  of  a  dog.  It 
was  but  a  short  distance  away,  and  leaping  to  his  feet  he 
saw  a  peasant  standing  at  a  distance  of  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards. 

Walter  hurried  toward  him  at  a  speed  of  which  a  few 
minutes  before  he  would  have  thought  himself  incapable. 
The  man  continued  whistling  at  short  intervals,  and  did 
not  notice  Walter  till  he  was  within  twenty  yards  distant; 
then  he  turned  sharply  round. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  asked,  clubbing  a  heavy  stick 
which  he  held  in  his  hand  and  standing  on  the  defensive. 

The  dress  and  appearance  of  the  man  assured  Walter 
that  he  was  a  Catholic,  and  therefore  a  friend,  and  he  re- 
plied at  once: 

"I  belong  to  one  of  the  Irish  troops  of  horse.  The 
Enniskilleners  surprised  a  party  .of  us  yesterday,  and 
wounded  me,  as  you  see.  Fortunately  I  escaped  in  the 
night  or  they  would  have  finished  me  this  morning.  I 
have  been  out  all  night  in  the  rain,  and  am  weak  from 
loss  of  blood  and  hunger.  Can  you  give  me  shelter?'* 

"That  I  can,"  the  man  said,  "and  gladly.  Those 
villains  have  been  killing  and  destroying  all  over  the 
country,  and  there's  many  a  one  of  us  who,  like  myself, 
have  been  driven  to  take  refuge  in  the  bogs." 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  109 

"Is  it  far?"  Walter  asked;  "for  I  don't  think  I  could 
get  more  than  a  mile  or  two." 

"It  is  not  half  a  mile,"  the  man  said.  "You  do  look 
nearly  done  for.  Here,  lean  on  me,  I  will  help  you 
along;  and  if  you  find  your  strength  go  I  will  make  a 
shift  to  carry  you." 

"It  is  lucky  I  heard  you  whistle,"  Walter  said. 

"It  is,  indeed,"  the  man  replied,  "for  it  is  not  likely 
any  one  else  would  have  come  along  to-day.  My  dog 
went  off  after  a  rabbit,  and  I  was  whistling  to  him  to 
come  to  me  again.  Ah!  here  he  is;  he  has  got  the  rabbit 
too.  Good  dog!  well  done!" 

He  took  the  rabbit  and  dropped  it  into  the  pocket  of 
his  coat.  Seeing  that  Walter  was  too  exhausted  to  talk, 
he  asked  no  questions  and  said  nothing  till  he  pointed  to 
a  low  mound  of  earth  and  said:  "Here  we  are." 

He  went  round  by  the  side;  and  Walter  perceived  that 
there  was  a  sharp  dip  in  the  ground,  and  that  the  hut 
was  dug  out  in  the  face  of  the  slope;  so  that  if  it  were 
approached  either  from  behind  or  on  either  side  it  would 
not  be  noticed,  the  roof  being  covered  with  sods,  and 
closely  matching  the  surrounding  ground. 

The  man  went  to  the  low  door  and  opened  it. 

"Come  in,  sir,"  he  said;  "you  are  quite  welcome." 

The  hut  contained  two  other  men,  who  looked  up  in 
surprise  at  the  greeting. 

"This  is  a  young  officer  in  one  of  our  horse  regiments," 
the  man  said.  "He  has  been  in  the  hands  of  the  Ennis- 
killeners,  and  has  got  out  from  them  alive — which  is 
more  than  most  can  say.  He  has  had  a  bad  wound,  has 
been  wet  through  for  hours,  and  is  half-starving.  Look 
sharp,  lads,  and  get  something  hot  as  soon  as  possible. 
Now,  sir,  if  you  will  take  off  those  wet  things  of  yours 
and  wrap  yourself  in  that  rug,  you  will  find  yourself  the 
better  for  it.  When  a  man  is  in  health  a  few  hours'  wet 


HO  ORANGE  AND  QREEN. 

will  not  do  him  any  harm;  but  when  he  is  weak  from  loss 
of  blood,  as  you  are,  the  cold  seems  to  get  into  his 
bones." 

Fresh  turfs  were  at  once  put  on  the  smoldering  fire, 
which  one  of  the  men,  leaning  down  before  it,  proceeded 
to  blow  lustily;  and  although  much  of  the  smoke  made 
its  way  out  through  a  hole  in  the  roof,  enough  lingered 
to  render  it  difficult  for  Walter  to  breathe,  while  his  eyes 
watered  with  the  sharp  fumes.  A  kettle  had  been  placed 
on  the  fire,  and  in  a  very  short  time  a  jar  was  produced 
from  the  corner  of  the  hut  and  a  horn  of  strong  spirits 
and  water  mixed. 

"Here  are  some  cold  praties,  sir.  It's  all  we  have  got 
cooked  by  us  now,  but  I  can  promise  you  a  better  meal 
later  on." 

Walter  ate  the  potatoes  and  drank  the  warm  mixture. 
The  change  from  the  cold  damp  air  outside  to  the  warm 
atmosphere  of  the  hut  aided  the  effects  of  the  spirits;  he 
was  first  conscious  of  a  warm  glow  all  over  him,  and  then 
the  voices  of  the  men  seemed  to  grow  indistinct. 

"You  had  better  stretch  yourself  on  that  pile  of 
rushes,*'  the  man  said,  as  Walter  gave  a  start,  being  on 
the  point  of  rolling  over.  "Two  or  three  hours'  sleep 
will  make  a  man  of  you,  and  by  that  time  dinner  will  be 
ready  and  your  clothes  dry." 

Walter  fell  almost  instantaneously  off  to  sleep,  and  it 
was  late  in  the  afternoon  before  he  woke. 

"I  am  afraid  I  must  have  slept  a  long  time,"  he  said, 
sitting  up. 

"You  have  had  a  fine  sleep  surely,"  one  of  the  men  re- 
plied; "and  it's  dinner  and  supper  all  in  one  that  you 
will  have." 

Walter  found  his  uniform  and  underclothes  neatly 
folded  up  by  his  side,  and  speedily  dressed  himself. 

"That  sleep  has  done  me  a  world  of  good,"  he  said. 
**I  feel  quite  myself  again." 


ORANGE  AND  QREEN.  Ill 

"That's  right,  yer  honor.  When  you've  had  your  food 
I  will  make  a  shift  to  dress  that  wound  at  the  back  of  yer 
head.  Be  jabbers,  it's  a  hard  knock  you  have  had,  and 
a  mighty  lot  of  blood  you  must  have  lost! — yer  clothes 
-was  just  stiff  with  it;  but  I  washed  most  of  it  out.  And 
now,  lads,  off  with  the  pot!" 

A  large  pot  was  hanging  over  the  fire,  and  when  the 
lid  was  taken  off  a  smell  very  pleasant  to  Walter's  nostrils 
arose.  Four  flat  pieces  of  wood  served  the  purpose  of 
plates;  and  with  a  large  spoon  of  the  same  material  the 
man  who  had  brought  Walter  to  the  hut,  and  who  ap- 
peared to  be  the  leader  of  the  party,  ladled  out  portions 
of  the  contents.  These  consisted  of  rabbit  and  pieces  of 
beef  boiled  up  with  potatoes  and  onions.  A  large  jug 
filled  with  water  and  a  bottle  of  spirits  were  placed  in  the 
center,  with  the  horn  which  Walter  had  before  used  be- 
side it. 

"We  are  short  of  crockery,"  the  man  said  with  a  laugh. 
"Here  are  some  knives,  but  as  for  forks  we  just  have  to 
do  without  them." 

Walter  enjoyed  his  meal  immensely.  After  it  was 
finished  the  wooden  platters  were  removed  and  the  jug 
replenished. 

"Now,  your  honor,  will  you  tell  us  how  you  got  away 
from  the  Protestant  rebels,  and  how  was  it  they  didn't 
make  short  work  of  you  when  they  caught  you?  It's  a 
puzzle  to  us  entirely,  for  the  Enniskilleners  spare  neither 
man,  woman,  nor  child." 

Walter  related  the  whole  circumstances  of  his  capture, 
imprisonment,  and  escape. 

"You  fooled  them  nicely,"  the  man  said  admiringly. 
*'Sure  your  honor's  the  one  to  get  out  of  a  scrape — and 
you  little  more  than  a  boy." 

"And  what  are  you  doing  here?'  Walter  asked  in  re- 
turn. "This  seems  a  wild  place  to  live  in." 


112  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"It's  just  that,"  the  man  said.  "We  belonged  to  Kil« 
bally.  The  Enniskilleners  came  that  way  and  burned  it 
to  the  ground.  They  murdered  my  wife  and  many 
another  one.  I  was  away  cutting  pG*t  with  my  wife's 
brother  here;  when  we  came  back  everything  was  gone. 
A  few  had  escaped  to  the  bogc,  wUere  they  could  not  be 
followed;  the  rest  was,  every  mother's  son  of  them,  killed 
by  those  murdering  villains.  Your  honor  may  guess 
what  we  felt  when  we  got  back.  Thank  God  I  had  no 
children!  We  buried  the  wife  in  the  garden  behind  the 
house,  and  then  started  away  and  joined  a  band  of  rap- 
parees,  and  paid  some  of  them  back  in  their  own  coin. 
Then  one  day  the  Enniskilleners  fell  on  us,  and  most  of 
us  were  killed.  Then  we  made  our  way  back  to  the  old 
village,  and  came  up  here  and  built  us  this  hut.  It's  a 
wonder  to  us  how  you  got  here;  for  there  are  bogs  stretch- 
ing away  in  all  directions,  and  how  you  made  your  way 
through  them  bates  us  entirely." 

"Yours  is  a  sad  story,  but  unfortunately  a  common 
one.  And  how  have  you  managed  to  live  here?" 

"There  are  plenty  of  potatoes  for  the  digging  of  'em," 
the  man  said,  "for  there  are  a  score  of  ruined  villages 
within  a  day's  walk.  As  for  meat,  there  are  cattle  for 
the  taking,  wandering  all  over  the  country;  some  have 
lately  strayed  away;  but  among  the  hills  there  are  herds 
which  have  run  wild  since  the  days  when  Cromwell  made 
the  country  a  desert.  As  for  spirits,  I  brew  them  my- 
self. Barley  as  well  as  potatoes  may  bo  had  for  the  tak- 
ing. Then  sometimes  the  dog  picks  up  a  rabbit;  some- 
times, when  we  go  down  for  potatoes,  we  light  or  a  fowl 
or  two;  there's  many  a  one  of  them  running  wild  among 
the  ruins.  As  far  as  eating  and  drinking  goes,  we  never 
did  better;  and  if  I  could  forget  the  old  cottage,  and  the 
sight  that  met  my  eyes  when  I  went  back  to  it,  I  should 
do  well  enough,  but  night  and  day  I  am  dreaming  of  it, 
and  my  heart  is  sore  with  longing  for  vengeance." 


ORAXTGE  AND  GREEff.  113 

"Why  don't  you  join  the  army?"  Walter  asked. 
"There's  plenty  of  room  for  good  men,  and  yesterday's 
affair  has  made  some  vacancies  in  my  own  troop.  What 
f*o  you  say,  lads?  You  would  have  a  chance  of  crossing 
swords  with  the  Enniskilleners,  and  you  could  always 
come  back  here  when  the  war  is  over." 

"What  do  you  say,  boys?"  the  man  asked  his  compan- 
ions. "I  am  just  wearying  for  a  fight,  and  I  could  die 
contented  if  I  could  but  send  a  few  of  those  murdering 
villains  to  their  place  before  I  go." 

The  other  two  men  at  once  agreed.  They  talked  well 
ii*to  the  night,  and  Walter  heard  many  tales  of  the  savage 
butchery  of  unoffending  peasants  by  the  men  who  pro- 
fessed to  be  fighting  for  religious  liberty,  which  shocked 
aiid  sickened  him.  It  was  arranged  that  they  should 
start  on  the  following  morning.  The  men  said  that  they 
could  guide  him  across  country  to  Dundalk  without 
difficulty,  and  assured  him  that  he  would  be  little  likely 
to  meet  with  the  enemy,  for  that  the  whole  country  had 
heen  so  wasted  by  fire  and  sword  as  to  offer  but  little  temp- 
tation even  to  the  most  insatiable  of  plunderers. 

Accordingly,  the  next  morning  they  set  out  and  ar- 
rived late  that  evening  at  the  camp.  Walter  found  that 
his  father  and  his  followers  were  absent.  They  had  re- 
turned, much  surprised  at  not  having  been  rejoined  by 
Walter's  party,  but  on  their  arrival  they  had  found  there 
the  survivors  of  his  command,  who  had  ridden  straight 
for  Dundalk. 

After  a  few  hours'  stay  to  rest  the  horses,  Captain 
Davenant,  with  his  own  men  and  two  of  the  troops  of 
cavalry,  had  ridden  out  in  search  of  the  Enniskilleners. 
Larry,  who  had  been  almost  wild  with  grief  when  the 
news  of  the  surprise,  and,  as  he  believed,  the  death  of 
Walter,  had  been  brought  in,  had  accompanied  the  cav- 
alry. It  was  late  on  the  following  afternoon  before  they 


114  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

rode  into  camp.  Larry  was  the  first  to  come  in,  having 
received  permission  from  Captain  Davenant  to  gallop  on 
ahead.  They  had  met  the  enemy  and  had  inflicted  a  de- 
cisive defeat  upon  them,  but  the  greater  part  had  escaped 
by  taking  to  the  hills  on  their  wiry  little  horses,  which 
were  able  to  traverse  bogs  and  quagmires  impassable  to 
the  heavy  troopers. 

Captain  Davenant  had  closely  questioned  two  or  three 
wounded  men  who  fell  into  his  hands.  These  all  de- 
clared that  a  young  officer  had  been  captured  in  the  pre- 
vious fight,  that  he  had  been  severely  wounded,  and  car- 
rried  away  senseless,  but  that  he  had  in  some  extraor- 
dinary manner  managed  to  escape  that  night.  This  story 
had  greatly  raised  Captain  Davenant's  hopes  that  Walter 
might  yet  be  alive,  a  hope  which  he  had  not  before  al- 
lowed himself  for  a  moment  to  indulge  in;  and  as  he 
neared  Dundalk  he  had  readily  granted  leave  for  the  im- 
patient Larry  to  gallop  on  ahead,  and  discover  if  any 
news  had  been  received  of  Walter.  Larry's  delight  at 
seeing  his  young  master  standing  at  the  door  of  the  tent 
was  extreme.  He  gave  a  wild  whoop,  threw  his  cap  high 
up  into  the  air,  and  then,  without  a  word  of  greeting, 
turned  his  horse's  head  and  galloped  away  again,  at  the 
top  of  his  speed,  to  carry  the  good  news  to  Captain  Dav- 
enant. Half  an  hour  later  the  column  rode  into  camp, 
and  Walter  was  clasped  in  his  father's  arms. 

That  evening  Walter's  three  companions  were  enrolled 
in  the  troop,  and,  hearing  that  there  were  vacancies  for 
fifteen  more,  volunteered  to  return  to  the  hills  and  to 
bring  back  that  number  of  men  from  the  peasants  hiding 
there.  This  mission  they  carried  out,  and  by  the  end  of 
the  week  Captain  Davenant's  troops  was  again  made  up 
to  its  full  strength. 

The  unsuccessful  result  of  the  siege  of  Schomberg's 
camp  greatly  damped  Walter's  enthusiasm.  He  had 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  115 

been  engaged  in  two  long  and  tedious  blockades,  and, 
with  the  exception  of  some  skirmishes  round  Derry,  had 
seen  nothing  whatever  of  fighting.  Neither  operation 
had  been  attended  by  any  decisive  result;  both  had  in- 
flicted extreme  misery  and  suffering  upon  the  enemy,  but 
in  neither  was  the  success  aimed  at  attained.  At  the 
same  time,  the  novelty  of  the  life,  the  companionship  of 
his  father  and  the  other  officers  of  the  regiment,  and, 
not  least,  the  good-humor  and  fun  of  his  attendant, 
Larry,  had  made  the  time  pass  far  more  cheerfully  to 
him  than  to  the  majority  of  those  in  the  army. 

As  before,  when  the  army  arrived  at  Dublin,  Captain 
Davenant's  troop  was  posted  in  and  around  Bray,  the 
greater  portion  of  it  being  permitted  to  reside  in  their 
own  homes  until  again  wanted  for  active  service.  Walter 
on  his  return  was  glad  to  find  that  his  friend  John 
Whitfeoot  had  made  his  way  home  from  Derry,  and  their 
pleasant  intercourse  was  at  once  renewed. 

Schomberg's  army,  when  moved  to  healthy  quarters 
and  bountifully  supplied  with  all  kinds  of  food  and  nec- 
essaries from  England,  speedily  recovered  their  health 
and  discipline,  and  in  a  very  short  time  were  again  in 
condition  to  take  the  field. 

Early  in  February,  1690,  Brigadier  Wolseley,  with  a 
detachment  of  Enniskilleners  and  English,  marched 
against  Cavan.  James  had  no  longer  an  army  with 
which  he  could  oppose  Schomberg's  enterprises.  While 
the  latter  had  been  recovering  from  the  effects  of  his 
heavy  losses,  nothing  had  been  done  to  put  the  Irish 
army  in  a  condition  to  take  the  field  again.  They  lacked 
almost  every  necessary  for  a  campaign.  No  magazines 
had  been  formed  to  supply  them  when  they  should  again 
advance,  and  so  short  of  forage  were  they  that  it  was 
considered  impossible  to  make  any  move  in  force  until 
the  grass  should  grow  sufficiently  to  enable  the  horses 
to  get  into  condition. 


ORANGE  AND  OREE2T. 

Nevertheless,  the  Duke  of  Berwick  marched  with  eight 
hundred  men  from  Dublin,  and  Brigadier  Nugent  with  a 
like  force  from  West  Meath  and  Longford,  and  arrived 
at  Cavan  a  few  hours  before  the  English  reached  the 
town.  The  Irish  force  was  composed  entirely  of  infan- 
try, with  the  exceptioi  of  two  troops  of  cavalry.  The 
English  force  consisted  of  ?even  hundred  foot  and  three 
hundred  cavalry.  As  Cavan  did  not  offer  any  advantages 
in  the  way  of  defense,  the  Duke  of  Berwick  moved  his 
army  out  into  the  open  field.  The  English  lined  the 
hedges  and  stood  on  the  defensive. 

The  Irish  horse  commenced  the  battle  with  a  furious 
charge  on  the  Enniskilleners  and  dragoons,  and  drove 
them  from  the  field,  but  the  English  infantry  maintained 
their  position  so  stoutly  that  after  a  prolonged  fight  the 
Irish  retreated  into  a  fort  near  the  town.  The  English 
and  Enniskilleners  entered  Cavan,  and  at  once  began  to 
•"V-mder  the  place.  Hearing  what  was  going  on,  the 
r>uiie  of  Berwick  sallied  out  from  his  fort  to  attack 
them,  and  gained  considerable  advantage.  Brigadier 
Wolseley  being  unable  to  restore  discipline  among  the 
Enniskilleners,  who  formed  the  great  majority  of  his 
force,  ordered  the  town  to  be  set  on  fire  in  several  places. 
The  troops  then  collected  and  repulsed  the  Irish  with 
considerable  loss. 

The  Duke  of  Berwick  had  two  hundred  killed,  among 
whom  were  Brigadier  Nugent  and  many  officers.  As  the 
Irish  remained  in  possession  of  the  fort,  and  the  town 
was  almost  entirely  destroyed  by  fire,  Brigadier  Wolseley 
returned  with  his  force  to  Dundalk.  Shortly  afterward 
the  Fort  of  Charlemont  was  invested  by  a  strong  detach- 
ment of  Schomberg's  army. 

Teigue  0 'Regan,  the  veteran  governor,  defended  tha 
place  with  the  greatest  bravery,  and  did  not  capitulate 
until  the  14th  of  May.  when  the  last  ounce  of  provisions 


WALTER  ESCAPES  FROM  THE  ENGLISH  SOLDIERS. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  117 

was  consumed.  The  garrison  were  allowed  honorable 
terms,  and  the  eight  hundred  men  who  defended  the 
place,  with  their  arms  and  baggage,  and  some  two  hun- 
dred women  and  children,  were  allowed  to  march  away. 
The  Enniskilleners  treated  the  Irish  soldiers  and  their 
families  with  great  brutality  as  they  passed  along,  but 
Schomberg  humanely  ordered  that  a  loaf  of  bread  should 
be  given  to  each  man  at  Armagh. 

The  Irish  army  were  not  in  condition  to  render  any 
assistance  to  the  hard-pressed  garrison  of  Charlemont 
until  after  they  had  capitulated.  In  the  meantime  a 
great  army,  which  was  to  be  led  by  King  William  in  per- 
son, was  being  collected  in  England.  It  consisted  of  a 
strange  medley,  collected  from  almost  every  European 
nation — English,  Scotch,  Irish  Protestants,  French 
Huguenots,  Dutch,  Swedes,  Danes,  Brandenburghers, 
Swiss,  Norwegians,  and  Hessians.  More  than  half,  in- 
deed, were  foreigners.  All  were  well  disciplined,  armed, 
and  clothed.  In  all,  including  the  force  under  Schom- 
berg, the  army  amounted  to  forty-three  thousand  men 
and  fifty  cannon. 

King  William  landed  at  Carrickfergus  on  the  14th  of 
June,  and  the  combined  army  at  once  began  their  south- 
ward march.  Against  this  force  King  James  collected 
but  twenty  thousand  men.  Of  these  six  thousand  were 
French;  they  had  arrived  under  the  command  of  the 
Count  de  Lauzun  in  March,  but  they  had  not  increased 
the  numbers  of  King  James'  troops,  for  he  had  been 
obliged  to  send  in  exchange  an  equal  number  of  his  best 
trained  soldiers  under  Lord  Mountcashel  for  service  in 
France.  Of  the  fourteen  thousand  native  troops,  the 
Irish  horse,  which  was  raised  and  officered  by  Irish  gen- 
tlemen, was  excellent,  but  the  infantry  was  composed  for 
the  most  part  of  raw  levies,  but  half-armed,  and  the  only 
artillery  consisted  of  twelve  guns,  which  had  arrived  with 
the  infantry  from  France. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

It  was  a  sad  parting  when  Captain  Davenant  and  Walter 
left  home  for  the  front.  The  former  was  filled  with 
gloomy  forebodings.  He  could  scarcely  hope  that  the 
ill-trained  levies  of  James  could  succeed  against  the 
vastly  superior  force  of  disciplined  troops  with  whom 
they  had  now  to  cope;  especially  as  the  latter  were  led  by 
an  able  and  energetic  general,  while  the  former  were 
hampered  by  the  incompetence  and  vacillation  of  James. 
The  day  before  they  started  Captain  Davenant  rode  over 
to  *he  Whitefoots  and  had  a  talk  with  Jabez. 

MI  know  not  how  the  campaign  will  go,"  he  said.  "If 
we  are  beaten  we  shall  probably  retire  to  the  west  and 
maintain  the  war  there.  In  that  case,  Dublin  will  of 
course  fall  into  the  hands  of  William.  Should  this  be  so 
I  will  ask  you  to  reverse  our  late  position,  and  to  ex- 
tend what  assistance  you  can  to  my  wife  and  mother.  It 
may  be  that  if  I  do  not  return  here  none  will  disturb 
them.  I  have  not  made  myself  obnoxious  to  my  Protes- 
tant neighbors,  and  no  one  may  take  the  trouble  to  bring 
it  before  the  notice  of  the  English  that  I  am  absent  fight- 
ing with  the  army  of  King  James.  If,  however,  they 
ahould  do  so,  and  the  castle  and  what  remains  of  the 
estates  be  confiscated,  will  you  lend  what  aid  you  can  to 
the  ladies  and  my  younger  boy  until  I  or  Walter  return 
from  the  war?" 

"That  will  I  do  right  gladly,"  Jabez  said  heartily. 
"Should  I  hear  any  talk  of  what  you  speak  of  I  will  go 
up  to  Dublin  with  some  of  our  friends  and  ministers,  and 
we  will  testify  to  the  good  relations  which  have  existed 
between  you  and  your  Protestant  neighbors,  and  entreat 
that  no  measures  be  taken  against  your  estate.  Should 
we  not  prevail,  be  assured  that  I  will  look  after  the  com- 
fort of  the  ladies  as  if  they  were  of  my  own  family.  I 
can  well  understand  that  Mrs.  Davenant  the  elder  would 
not  accept  the  shelter  of  our  roof  whatever  her  extremity. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  119 

She  belongs  to  the  generation  of  my  father,  and  cannot 
forget  the  past;  hut  I  will  see  that  they  are  well  lodged  in 
Bray,  and  have  every  protection  from  molestation  and 
annoyance  there.  Should  I  find,  as,  alas!  may  be  the 
case,  that  the  spirit  of  religious  persecution  is  fiercely 
abroad,  I  will  consult  with  them  as  to  whether  they  may 
wish  to  cross  the  sea  until  you  can  join  them,  and  will 
make  arrangements  as  they  may  direct  for  their  passage." 

"I  am  truly  obliged  to  you/'  Captain  Davenant  said. 
"It  will  make  me  comfortable  to  know  that,  whatsoever 
may  befall  me,  they  will  have  a  friend  in  these  stormy 
times." 

"Say  nought  about  it,"  Jabez  replied.  "Did  not  you 
and  your  son  succor  my  boy  in  his  extremity?  If  I  do 
all  and  more  than  all  that  I  can  in  this  matter  I  shall  not 
deem  that  we  are  quits." 

The  Irish  army  moved  forward  to  the  Boyne,  which 
William  was  approaching  from  the  north.  James'  officers 
endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  setting  everything  on 
the  hazard  of  the  battle.  They  represented  that  his 
army,  though  now  quite  unequal  to  the  contest,  was  rap- 
idly improving  in  skill  and  confidence  in  itself;  that  re- 
inforcements were  every  day  expected  from  France, 
which  would  at  least  make  them  equal  to  the  enemy  in 
numbers;  that  they  were  in  want  of  arms,  artillery,  and 
stores,  all  which  might  be  expected  also  from  France  in 
a  short  period;  and  that  their  policy  was  clearly  to  pro- 
tract the  war,  and  wear  out  the  enemy  by  a  contest  of 
posts  and  sieges. 

Unskilled  as  his  troops  might  be  in  the  field,  they  had 
proved  themselves  steady  and  resolute  in  thejlefense  of 
fortified  places;  they  held  all  the  great  fortresses  of  the 
kingdom,  and  it  would  be  easy  to  provide  for  the  de- 
fense of  these,  and  to  occupy  William's  army  in  small 
affairs  till  the  winter,  when  the  climate  would  do  execu- 


120  ORANGE  AND  QREBlf. 

tion   upon  the   invaders,  while  the  Irish   would  suffer 
little.     Then  would  be  the  time  to  fight. 

In  the  meantime,  it  was  urged,  the  intrigues  the 
French  were  actively  carrying  out  in  Britain  would  have 
produced  some  effect:  the  French  fleet  was  every  day  ex- 
pected on  the  coast  of  England,  and  William  would  soon 
be  compelled  to  return  to  that  country,  if  not  to  recall 
the  greater  part  of  his  army.  In  Scotland,  too,  the 
French  were  busy;  and  there  were  materials  in  that  coun- 
try for  creating  a  powerful  diversion.  To  fight  now 
would  be  to  forego  every  advantage,  and  to  meet  the 
views  of  William,  whose  obvious  interest  it  was  to  bring 
the  contest  to  an  immediate  decision  now  while  every 
circumstance  was  in  his  favor. 

But  James,  who  had  hitherto  shown  nothing  but  tim- 
idity and  hesitation,  was  now  seized  with  an  impulse  of 
valor.  Having  acted  with  unfortunate  cowardice  before 
Derry  and  Schomberg's  camp  at  Dundalk,  he  was  as  un- 
fortunately now  seized  with  ardor  to  fight  when  pru- 
dence and  discretion  would  have  been  his  best  policy. 
But  while  James  was  determining  to  fight  in  the  teeth 
of  the  opinion  and  advice  of  his  bravest  officers,  his  true 
character  was  shown  in  his  taking  every  precaution  for 
his  personal  safety.  He  sent  off  his  heavy  baggage,  and 
engaged  a  vessel  at  Waterford  to  convey  him  to  France. 

William,  on  the  other  hand,  was  naturally  eager  for  an 
early  engagement.  He  was  still  very  insecurely  seated 
upon  the  English  throne.  The  people  were  either  dis- 
contented or  .indifferent.  They  looked  with  impatience 
and  indignation  at  the  crowd  of  Dutch  officers  and  civil- 
ians whom  William  had  brought  over  with  him;  while 
the  cold  and  ungracious  manner  of  the  king  contrasted 
most  unfavorably  with  the  bearing  to  which  they  had 
been  accustomed  in  English  monarchs. 

In    Scotland    the    Jacobite    spirit  was  gathering  in 


ORANGE  AND  GREEK  131 

strength,  and  William  knew  that  unless  he  speedily 
broke  the  strength  of  James'  party  in  Ireland  he  would 
very  shortly  be  confronted  with  difficulties  and  dangers 
on  all  sides. 

The  position  which  the  Irish  army  occupied  was  a 
strong  one.  Its  right  rested  upon  Drogheda,  a  strong 
town  in  their  possession.  In  front  was  the  Boyne,  with 
steep  banks  lined  with  thick  hedges,  with  cottages  scat- 
tered here  and  there,  offering  an  excellent  position  for 
light  troops.  On  the  left  the  Boyne  turned  almost  at  a 
right  angle,  and  formed  a  defense  on  this  flank.  To  the 
rear  the  Irish  position  was  covered  by  high  hills  and  the 
village  of  Donore.  Further  back  was  the  pass  of  Duleek. 

The  hedges  and  cottages  by  the  river  side  were  oc- 
cupied by  the  Irish  infantry,  and  upon  some  little  hil- 
locks which  ran  along  the  water's  edge  they  erected  some 
light  batteries. 

King  William  reconnoitered  the  position  with  great  at- 
tention, and  saw  that  it  had  been  well  chosen  and  its 
advantages  turned  to  account.  Notwithstanding  the  re- 
ports of  deserters  and  others,  he  showed  much  anxiety  to 
determine  the  exact  strength  of  the  Irish. 

After  examining  the  position  for  some  time  from  a 
height  he  rode  down  toward  the  river  accompanied  by 
several  of  his  officers.  When  within  musket-shot  of  the 
bank,  near  the  ford  and  village  of  Old  Bridge,  he  per- 
ceived that  a  small  island  in  the  Boyne  was  occupied  by 
a  party  of  the  Irish  horse.  Near  the  ford  some  field- 
works  had  been  thrown  up.  It  was  at  this  point  that 
the  king  determined  to  cross  the  river,  and  he  spent 
some  time  conversing  with  his  officers  as  to  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  passage. 

He  then  rode  slowly  along  the  river  bank  until  he  ar- 
rived nearly  opposite  the  left  of  the  Irish  line.  Here  he 
alighted  from  his  horse,  and  sat  down  on  rising  ground 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

watching  his  own  battalions,  which  were  marching  with 
the  greatest  regularity  and  order  into  the  positions  as- 
signed to  them.  "While  he  was  so  engaged  some  officers 
of  James*  army  were  observed  riding  quietly  along  the 
opposite  bunk  of  the  river,  and  also  engaged  in  watching 
the  movements  of  the  British  troops. 

These  were  General  Sarsfield,  the  Duke  of  Berwick, 
the  Marquis  of  Tyrconnell,  the  Count  de  Lauzun,  and 
others.  Some  of  the  English  dragoons  approached  the 
river  and  were  fired  upon  by  the  Irish.  They  returned 
the  fire,  and  while  the  attention  of  both  sides  was  en- 
gaged by  the  skirmish  a  party  of  Irish  cavalry  moved 
slowly  down  toward  the  river  and  halted  behind  a  low 
hedge,  and  then  wheeling  about  again  retired. 

The  movements  of  the  king  and  the  group  of  officers 
accompanying  him  had  been  observed  in  the  Irish  army, 
and  two  field-pieces  wore  sent  down  concealed  in  the 
center  of  the  cavalry.  The  guns  had  been  placed  behind 
the  hedge  when  the  horsemen  withdrew,  and  when  Will- 
iam rose  from  the  ground  and  mounted  his  horse  fire 
was  opened.  The  first  cannon-shot  killed  two  horses  and 
a  man  by  his  side.  The  next  grazed  the  king's  right 
shoulder,  tearing  away  his  coat  and  inflicting  a  slight 
flesh  wound.  Had  the  aim  been  slightly  more  accurate, 
or  had  the  gunners  fired  with  grape  instead  of  round  shot, 
it  is  probable  that  the  whole  course  of  history  would  have 
been  changed. 

The  rumor  spread  through  both  armies  that  the  king 
was  killed;  but  the  wound  was  a  slight  one,  and  having 
had  it  hastily  bound  up  the  king  rode  quietly  through 
the  camps  in  order  to  show  the  men  that  the  hurt  was 
not  serious.  In  the  evening  he  called  a  council  of  war. 
The  Duke  of  Schomberg  was  strongly  opposed  to  an  at- 
tack upon  the  enemy  while  posted  in  so  strong  a  posi- 
tion, and  urged  that  by  making  a  turning  movement 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  133 

and  marching  straight  upon  Dublin  the  enemy  would  be 
obliged  to  fall  back  and  fight  under  less  advantageous 
circumstances;  but  the  king,  relying  upon  his  superior 
numbers  and  the  discipline  of  his  veteran  troops,  deter- 
mined to  attack  at  once,  knowing  that  it  was  all-impor- 
tant to  bring  the  matter  to  a  decision  as  early  as  possible. 

Schomberg  then  urged  the  necessity  of  occupying  the 
pass  of  Slane  upon  the  Boyne,  considerably  to  the  west 
of  the  Irish  line,  as  he  would  thus  cut  off  their  retreat, 
and,  in  the  event  of  victory,  render  their  defeat  a  de- 
cided one;  but  the  king  saw  that  he  should  require  his 
whole  force  to  dislodge  the  Irish  from  their  position,  and 
that  it  was  useless  to  occupy  the  pass  of  Slane  with  a 
small  detachment,  as  these  would  be  overwhelmed  by  the 
retiring  Irish. 

It  was  twelve  o'clock  at  night  before  the  council  ter- 
minated, and  then  the  king  mounted  his  horse  and  rode 
through  the  camp.  He  examined  into  the  state  and 
preparation  of  each  regiment,  saw  that  the  soldiers  were 
abundantly  supplied  with  food  and  refreshment  for  the 
morning,  and  that  sufficient  ammunition  for  the  day's 
work  had  been  served  out.  He  directed  the  men  to  wear 
green  branches  in  their  caps,  and  gave  " Westminster" 
as  the  word  for  the  day. 

The  order  of  the  battle  finally  determined  upon  was 
that  the  right  wing  of  the  army,  under  General  Douglas 
and  Count  Schomberg,  son  of  the  duke,  should  pass  the 
river  at  Slane  and  endeavor  to  turn  the  Irish  left  between 
Slane  and  Duleek.  The  left  wing  were  to  penetrate  be- 
tween the  Irish  right  and  Drogheda;  the  center  to  force 
the  passage  of  the  river  at  the  ford  of  Old  Bridge. 

A  council  was  also  held  in  James'  camp,  and  here  also 
there  was  difference  of  opinion.  Some  of  the  generals 
wished  to  hold  the  pass  of  Slane  in  force,  but  James  de- 
cided against  this.  As  the  morning  approached  the 


124  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

king's  new-born  courage  began  to  die  out;  he  ordered 
Some  movements  to  the  rear,  and  sent  forward  more  of 
his  baggage.  He  would  probably  have  declined  the  com- 
bat altogether  had  it  not  been  too  late.  Finally,  just  as 
day  was  breaking  over  the  council,  he  determined  that 
the  army  should  retreat  during  the  battle  and  not  commit 
themselves  in  a  decisive  engagement.  The  French 
formed  the  left,  and  were  to  lead  the  retreat,  while  the 
Irish  held  the  right  and  center. 

It  is  almost  certain  that  if  James  had  kept  to  his  reso- 
lution to  fight,  imprudent  as  it  appeared  to  be,  and  had 
brought  the  French  battalion  into  action  instead  of  lead- 
ing them  out  of  the  field,  the  result  of  the  battle  of  the 
Boyne  would  have  been  a  very  different  one. 


ORANGE  AND  QUEEN.  125 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

BOYNE  WATER. 

THE  morning  of  Tuesday,  the  1st  of  July,  1690,  broke 
calm  and  bright.  At  about  six  o'clock  in  the  morning 
the  English  right  wing,  under  General  Douglas  and 
Count  Schomberg,  marched  toward  Slane.  It  consisted 
of  twenty-four  squadrons  of  horse  and  six  battalions  of 
infantry.  As  they  marched  along  at  the  back  of  the 
river  they  discovered  several  shallows,  and  crossed  with- 
out proceeding  as  far  as  Slane.  No  serious  resistance 
was  offered  to  their  passage  of  the  Boyne,  as  the  Irish 
had  here  only  some  parties  of  skirmishers,  who  fell  back 
as  they  advanced. 

After  forming  the  troops  in  order  Douglas  and  Schom- 
berg advanced,  but  presently  perceived  the  French  bat- 
talions and  a  great  part  of  the  Irish  cavalry,  forming  the 
left  wing  of  James'  army,  drawn  up  in  order  at  some  dis- 
tance. They  consequently  halted  and  sent  for  reinforce- 
ments. When  these  arrived  they  extended  their  lines  to 
the  right,  so  as  to  outflank  the  enemy,  and,  supporting 
their  cavalry  by  alternate  battalions  of  infantry,  again 
moved  forward.  The  Irish  skirmishers  fell  back  before 
their  advance,  taking  advantage  of  the  banks  of  the 
ditches,  which  divided  the  ground  into  small  fields,  and 
keeping  up  a  galling  fire  upon  the  British  as  they  ad- 
vanced. With  some  difficulty  the  latter  passed  over  this 
broken  ground  and  formed  in  order  of  battle  on  the  edge 
of  what  appeared  to  be  a  plain,  but  which  was  in  fact  a 


126  ORANGE  AND  GREEK. 

deep  bog,  which  completely  covered  the  Irish  left.  Here 
they  came  to  a  standstill. 

William  had  waited  until  he  believed  that  his  right 
v/ould  have  had  time  to  fall  upon  the  Irish  left,  and  then 
ordered  his  center  to  advance  and  force  the  passage  at 
Old  Bridge.  The  Dutch  guards,  whom  William  relied 
upon  as  his  best  and  most  trustworthy  troops,  advanced  in 
splendid  order  to  the  river  side,  with  their  drums  beating 
the  march. 

When  they  reached  the  water's  edge  the  drums  ceased, 
and  the  soldiers  entered  the  river.  The  stream  rose  as 
the  dense  column  marched  in  and  dammed  it  up,  and  the 
water  reached  the  shoulders  of  the  grenadiers,  but  they 
still  moved  on  in  regular  order,  keeping  their  arms  and 
ammunition  dry  by  holding  them  above  their  heads.  On 
the  opposite  bank  the  hedges  near  the  brink  of  the  river 
were  lined  with  skirmishers,  while  in  the  rear,  in  a  hol- 
low covered  by  some  little  hills,  seven  regiments  of  Irish 
infantry,  supported  by  ten  troops  of  horse  and  Tyrcon- 
nelFs  regiment  of  cavalry,  were  drawn  up.  The  hills 
protected  them  from  the  fire  of  the  British  batteries, 
which  passed  over  their  heads. 

The  Dutch  troops  continued  their  way  unmolested 
until  they  reached  the  middle  of  the  river,  when  a  hot 
fire  was  opened  upon  them  from  the  Irish  skirmishers; 
but  the  Dutch  moved  on  unshaken  and  soon  gained  the 
opposite  bank,  where  they  rapidly  formed  up,  the 
skirmishers  retiring  before  them.  Scarcely  had  the 
Dutch  formed  their  squares  when  the  Irish  horse  burst 
down  upon  them  at  full  speed  and  charged  them  with 
impetuosity. 

They  stood  the  charge  unbroken,  but  again  and  again 
the  Irish  horse  charged  down  upon  them  with  the  great- 
est gallantry.  William  pushed  two  regiments  of  French 
Huguenots  and  one  of  British  across  the  river  to  the  as- 


ORANOE  AND  GREEK.  137 

gistance  of  the  Dutch  guards,  and  ordered  Sir  John 
Hanmars  and  the  Count  of  Nassau's  regiment  to  cross 
lower  down  the  stream  to  support  them. 

As  the  supports  were  making  a  passage,  General 
Hamilton  advanced  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  Irish  infantry 
to  the  water's  edge,  and  dashing  into  the  river  encoun- 
tered the  French  Huguenot  regiments  in  the  middle  of 
the  stream.  A  desperate  fight  ensued,  but  the  French 
made  their  way  across,  and  Hamilton,  falling  back  with 
his  infantry,  opened  to  the  right  and  left,  permitting  the 
Irish  horse  to  charge  through  them. 

These  rushed  with  fury  upon  the  French  regiment  of 
Colonel  La  Callimot,  and  cut  their  way  right  through 
them.  Then  wheeling  they  charged  them  in  flank  again, 
broke  them  and  drove  them  into  the  river.  La  Callimot 
himself  was  killed,  and  but  few  of  his  regiment  regained 
the  opposite  bank.  In  the  meantime  the  Dutch  guards, 
now  reinforced,  were  advancing  slowly,  the  Irish  infantry 
holding  fast  to  the  hedges  and  brushwood,  and  contest- 
ing every  inch  of  the  ground,  while,  wherever  the  ground 
permitted  it,  the  Irish  horse  burst  down  upon  them, 
evincing  a  gallantry  and  determination  which  would  have 
done  honor  to  the  finest  cavalry  in  Europe. 

The  king  continued  to  make  repeated  efforts  to  sup- 
port his  Dutch  troops,  and  after  the  French  were  broken 
he  pushed  forward  the  Danish  horse;  but  no  sooner  had 
they  crossed  the  bank  than  the  Irish  cavalry  burst  down 
upon  them,  broke  them  and  drove  them  back  into  the 
river.  They  fled  across  the  stream  in  disorder,  and  dis- 
persed in  all  directions. 

So  far  success  had  rested  principally  with  the  Irish; 
the  Dutch  guards  alone  remained  unbroken  in  the  cen- 
ter; the  French  infantry  and  Danish  horse  were  broken 
and  destroyed.  Old  Duke  Schomberg  exerted  himself  t^ 
the  utmost  to  restore  the  battle  at  this  point,  and  having 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

rallied  the  French  infantry  advanced  with  them,  and  a 
few  French  cavalry,  toward  the  river,  where  he  was  met 
by  some  of  the  Irish  horse  returning  from  the  pursuit  of 
the  Danes.  The  old  duke  was  cut  down  and  his  party 
again  routed,  and  at  the  same  moment  Walker,  the  cler- 
ical commander  of  Deny,  received  a  mortal  wound. 
After  his  successful  defense  of  Derry,  this  man  had  gone 
to  London,  where  he  had  been  f£ted  and  made  much  of, 
and  had  then  attached  himself  to  King  William's  army, 
where  he  posed  as  a  high  military  authority,  although 
much  discouraged  by  the  king,  whom  his  arrogance  and 
airs  of  authority  displeased. 

While  in  the  center  William's  forces  were  getting 
worsted,  and  on  his  right  Douglas  and  Count  Schomberg 
were  inactive  and  powerless,  he  himself  was  leading  his 
left  wing  across  the  river.  The  passage  was  a  difficult 
one,  and  the  king  himself  was  only  extricated  with  much 
exertion  from  a  quicksand  into  which  his  horse  had 
plunged. 

The  Irish  did  not  oppose  the  crossing,  and  as  soon  as 
his  forces  were  across  the  stream  William  ranged  them  in 
order.  They  consisted  of  a  large  body  of  Danish,  Dutch, 
and  Enniskillen  horse,  and  a  considerable  force  of  in- 
fantry. As  soon  as  all  were  in  order  the  king,  though 
still  suffering  from  the  wound  he  had  received  the  day 
before,  drew  his  sword  and  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his 
croops.  The  Irish  right  wing,  which  consisted  chiefly  of 
infantry,  moved  forward  to  meet  them,  but  perceiving 
the  numerous  cavalry,  led  by  the  king  himself,  preparing 
to  take  them  in  flank,  they  halted,  faced  about  and 
marched  slowly  to  the  little  hill  of  Donore.  Having 
gained  this  point,  they  again  faced  round  and  charged 
down  upon  the  British  who  had  followed  them  closely. 

At  this  moment  the  Irish  cavalry,  who  had  moved  rap- 
idly from  the  center  to  the  support  of  the  right,  charged 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  129 

down  upon  the  Danish  and  Dutch  horse  led  by  the  king, 
and  no  sooner  had  they  come  in  contact  than  the  Danes 
and  Dutch  turned  and  rode  off  with  the  Irish  cavalry  in 
pursuit.  The  king  rode  toward  the  Enniskilleners. 
Colonel  Wolseley  told  his  men  that  it  was  the  king,  and 
asked  if  they  wished  to  follow  him.  They  replied  with  a 
shout,  and  the  king,  placing  himself  at  the  head,  rode 
toward  the  Irish  infantry;  but  as  they  advanced  they 
were  met  by  a  well-directed  volley,  and  being  much  more 
fond  of  plundering  and  slaughtering  than  of  close  fight- 
ing, they  turned  horse  and  rode  away. 

Again  and  again  the  king  rallied  his  infantry  and 
brought  them  back  to  the  fight,  but  the  Irish  infantry 
stood  their  ground  with  great  steadiness  until  Hamilton, 
their  general,  was  wounded  and  taken  in  a  charge  of 
cavalry.  After  this  they  fell  back  from  Donore  upon 
Duleek  in  good  order,  the  enemy  not  wanting  to  molest 
them,  and  the  rest  of  the  Irish  infantry  followed  their 
example. 

No  more  singular  battle  than  that  of  the  Boyne  was 
ever  fought.  In  the  morning,  at  break  of  day,  part  of 
James'  army,  with  most  of  his  artillery,  were  in  march 
for  the  pass  of  Slane,  and  actually  on  their  retreat.  The 
left  wing,  composed  chiefly  of  French  infantry,  sup- 
posed to  be  the  best  troops  in  the  army,  never  fired  a 
shot.  The  center  and  right,  composed  entirely  of  Irish, 
most  of  whom  had  never  before  been  in  battle,  were 
alone  engaged.  With  the  exception  of  his  Dutch  guards, 
all  "William's  foreign  troops  had  been  repeatedly  broken; 
his  cavalry  had  been  driven  off  the  field  by  the  Irish 
horse,  while  no  division  of  the  Irish  was  broken  or  suf- 
fered a  decided  defeat,  until  the  infantry  from  the  hill  of 
Donore  were  compelled  to  retreat,  which  they  did  in  per- 
fect order. 

Throughout  the  day  the  Irish  cavalry  showed  a  vast 


130  ORANGE  AND  GREEN". 

superiority  to  those  of  the  British,  and  even  broke  and 
destroyed  regiments  of  infantry;  and  when  the  whole 
army  fell  back  they  closed  up  the  rear,  and  effectually 
prevented  any  attempt  at  pursuit.  Thus  the  battle  of 
the  Boyne  was  fought  rather  to  cover  a  retreat  than  de- 
fend a  position.  The  loss  on  either  side  was  estimated  at 
about  five  hundred,  and  General  Hamilton  was  the  only 
prisoner  taken  by  the  British. 

The  honors  of  the  fight  certainly  rested  with  the  Irish, 
who,  against  a  vastly  superior  force,  comprising  some  of 
the  best  troops  in  Europe,  maintained  themselves 
throughout  the  day,  and  gained,  indeed,  in  most  points, 
a  decided  advantage. 

King  James*  valor  had  entirely  evaporated  before  the 
first  shot  was  fired.  Instead  of  following  William's  ex- 
ample, and  leading  his  troops  in  the  conflict  which  was 
to  decide  the  fate  of  his  crown,  and  which  he  himself 
had  precipitated,  he  took  up  his  position  at  a  safe  dis- 
tance from  danger,  on  the  hill  of  Donore,  and  as  soon  as 
the  battle  approached  that  point  he  rode  off  to  Duleek, 
where  he  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  French 
troops,  and  led  their  retreat. 

He  soon,  however,  rode  on  ahead,  and  arrived  in  Dub- 
lin in  a  state  of  consternation  and  despair,  the  first  fugi- 
tive from  the  field  of  battle.  In  the  meantime  the  army 
•was  whole  and  unbroken,  marching  in  perfect  order  from 
the  field  of  battle,  while  its  king  and  commander  was  do- 
ing his  best  to  ruin  the  cause  by  spreading  dismay  and 
alarm  throughout  the  country.  The  next  morning  the 
king  sent  for  the  mayor  and  corporation  of  Dublin,  and 
told  them  that  ho  was  under  the  necessity  of  taking  care 
of  himself,  and  recommended  them  to  do  the  same,  and 
to  make  the  best  terms  they  could  with  the  enemy.  He 
then  at  once  mounted  and  made  his  flight  to  Waterford, 
ordering  the  bridges  to  be  broken  down  behind  him,  al- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  1S1 

though  the  British  army  had  not  yet  moved  from  its  posi- 
tion on  the  Boyne. 

On  reaching  Waterford  James  at  once  embarked  on 
board  the  ship  he  had  ordered  to  be  in  readiness,  and 
sailed  for  France.  His  conduct,  and  his  conduct  alone, 
converted  the  battle  of  the  Boyne,  which  was  in  effect  a 
kind  of  drawn  battle,  into  a  great  victory  for  William.  It 
had,  indeed,  more  than  answered  the  object  which  the 
Irish  commanders  proposed  to  themselves.  Their  plan 
was  to  accustom  the  new  and  badly  armed  levies  to  stand 
firm  against  the  steadiness  and  experience  of  William's 
veteran  troops,  and  then  to  withdraw  without  committing 
themselves  to  a  decisive  combat,  with  a  view  of  protracting 
the  campaign  until  William  should  be  forced  to  leave  Ire- 
land, and  his  foreign  army  should  be  worn  out  by  winter 
service  in  an  uncongenial  climate.  Every  day  would, 
they  calculated,  improve  their  own  army  and  weaken  and 
reduce  that  of  the  enemy. 

Their  position  at  the  Boyne  enabled  them  to  try  their 
plan  of  partial  combat  to  what  extent  they  chose  without 
danger  of  being  forced  into  a  more  extensive  action  than 
they  deemed  expedient.  The  Irish  troops  had  greatly 
surpassed  the  expectation  of  their  own  officers,  and  had 
filled  William's  generals  with  amazement;  and  it  is  prob- 
able that,  if  a  large  part  of  the  infantry  and  artillery  had 
not  been  sent  off  early  in  the  day,  the  experiment  might 
have  been  turned  into  a  brilliant  victory.  As  it  was, 
William  was  eo  surprised  and  alarmed  at  the  resistance 
he  had  encountered  that  he  remained  some  days  at  the 
Boyne  without  advancing. 

He  had  been  told  by  all  except  the  Duke  of  Schomberg 
that  the  resistance  of  the  Irish  would  be  contemptible, 
and  the  most  forward  of  those  who  had  scoffed  at  the 
courage  of  the  Irish  had  been  the  Enniskilleners,  who 
had  themselves  on  the  day  of  battle  shown  so  unmistak- 


132  ORANGE  AND  GREJSN. 

ably  the  white  feather.  After  this  the  king  disliked  and 
despised  these  troops,  and  hung  them  without  ceremony 
when  taken  in  those  acts  of  plunder  and  slaughter  to 
which  they  were  so  much  addicted. 

So  far  from  the  flight  of  King  James  discouraging  the 
army,  it  caused  universal  joy.  It  was  his  constant  vacil- 
lation, interference,  and  cowardly  action  which  had 
paralyzed  his  troops;  and  they  felt  that,  now  they  were 
free  to  act  without  his  interference,  they  would  be  able 
to  cope  with  the  invaders. 

William  at  once  offered  favorable  terms  if  Ireland 
would  submit  to  his  authority;  but  these  were  declined, 
partly  owing  to  the  powerful  influence  of  France,  partly 
to  the  fear  that  the  terms  would  not  be  observed,  partly 
to  the  apprehension  of  all  the  gentry  that  the  lands 
which  they  had  but  just  recovered  from  the  hands  of 
Cromwell's  settlers  would  be  again  taken  from  them. 

At  the  battle  of  the  Boyne  Walter  Davenant  with  his 
father's  troop  had  taken  part  in  all  the  desperate  charges 
upon  the  enemy.  During  the  long  hours  the  battle  had 
lasted  the  cavalry  had  been  incessantly  engaged.  Time 
after  time  they  had  charged  down  upon  the  Dutch 
squares,  and  no  sooner  had  the  ranks  been  re-formed 
after  recoiling  from  the  line  of  fixed  bayonets  than  they 
were  called  upon  to  charge  in  another  direction. 

Walter's  heart  beat  high  as  they  dashed  into  the  midst 
of  the  French  infantry,  or  shattered  and  drove  before 
them  the  Danish  horse;  but  there  was  little  time  to 
think,  and  looking  back  upon  the  day  when  all  was  over 
it  seemed  to  him  a  chaos  of  excitement  and  confusion,  of 
which  he  could  hardly  recall  even  the  chief  incidents. 
As  the  troops  halted  for  the  night  they  were  in  no  way 
dispirited  at  the  result  of  the  battle,  as  the  retreat  had 
been  begun  before  a  blow  was  struck.  They  knew  that 
it  was  neither  intended  nor  hoped  that  the  ground  would 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  138 

be  successfully  held;  and  every  man  felt  a  pride  in  the 
thought  that  some  eighteen  thousand  newly  raised  Irish 
levies,  of  whom  but  a  small  portion  of  the  infantry  were 
armed  with  muskets,  had  sustained  throughout  a  long 
summer's  day  the  attacks  of  more  than  double  their 
number  of  veteran  troops,  supported  by  fifty  pieces  of 
artillery. 

The  loss  of  the  Irish  horse  had  been  comparatively 
small.  Charging  a  square  in  the  days  when  the  bayonet 
was  fixed  in  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  was  not  the  desperate 
undertaking  that  it  now  is,  when  from  the  hedge  of  steel 
issues  a  rolling  and  continuous  fire.  The  French  regi- 
ment, once  broken,  had  been  cut  down  with  scarce  any 
resistance,  while  the  mercenary  cavalry  had  been  de- 
feated with  the  greatest  ease.  Thus  among  the  brigade 
of  the  Irish  horse  there  were  but  few  fallen  friends  to 
mourn,  and  nothing  to  mar  the  pride  that  every  man  felt 
in  the  behavior  of  the  Irish  troops  against  such  over- 
whelming odds.  That  the  king  had  fled  every  one  knew, 
but  the  feeling  was  one  of  relief. 

"His  absence  is  more  than  a  victory  to  us,"  Captain 
Davenant  said  as  with  a  group  of  officers  he  sat  by  a  fire 
made  of  a  fence  hastily  pulled  down.  "His  majesty  has 
his  yirtues,  and,  with  good  counselors,  would  make  a 
worthy  monarch;  but  among  his  virtues  military  genius 
is  not  conspicuous.  I  should  be  glad  myself  if  Lauzun 
and  the  French  would  also  take  their  departure,  and  let 
us  have  Mountcashel's  division  back  again  from  France. 
If  we  are  left  to  ourselves,  with  our  own  generals,  Sars- 
field  and  Mountcashel,  we  can  tire  out  this  continental 
riffraff  that  William  has  gathered  together.  The  dissen- 
sions caused  by  French  interference  have  been  our  ruin 
so  far;  leave  us  to  ourselves  and  we  shall  do.  The  Irish 
to-day  have  proved  their  fighting  qualities;  and,  if  proper 
use  is  made  of  the  resources  and  difficulties  of  the  coun- 


134  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

try,  I  defy  them  to  conquer  us.  I  feel  more  hopeful  now 
than  I  have  done  since  the  first  day  we  took  the  field." 

"Do  you  think  we  shall  fight  another  battle  before 
Dublin,  father?"  Walter  asked. 

"I  have  no  idea  what  the  generals  will  decide,  Walter, 
but  I  should  imagine  that  we  shall  march  to  the  west. 
We  had  a  strong  position  to-day,  but  in  the  open  field  at 
present  we  could  not  hope  to  cope  with  William's  supe- 
rior numbers  and  great  artillery  train.  His  guns  were 
little  use  to  him  yesterday;  but  on  level  ground  they 
would  tear  our  ranks  to  pieces,  without  our  being  able  to 
make  any  return.  Among  the  rivers  and  bogs  and  moun- 
tains of  the  west  we  should  find  scores  of  places  which 
we  could  hold  against  them.  Besides,  in  my  opinion  we 
should  not  fight  pitched  battles,  but  should  harass  them 
with  continuous  marches  and  attacks,  leaving  them 
masters  only  of  the  ground  they  stand  on,  until  at  last 
we  completely  wear  them  out  and  exhaust  them." 

"Then  you  think  we  shall  abandon  Dublin  altogether?" 

"I  think  so,  Walter." 

"But  will  they  not  persecute  the  Catholics  when  they 
Lave  them  in  their  power?" 

"There  may  be  some  disturbance  in  the  city,  Walter, 
before  the  English  troops  march  in;  but  William  will  no 
doubt  put  an  end  to  this  as  soon  as  he  arrives.  He  can- 
not wish  to  drive  the  Catholics  of  Ireland  to  desperation. 
At  any  rate  I  do  not  think  we  need  feel  at  all  uneasy 
about  those  at  home;  lying  on  the  coast  to  the  east  of  the 
town  of  Dublin,  and  altogether  out  of  the  track  of  the 
movements  of  troops,  there  is  little  fear  of  trouble  there. 
In  our  district  there  is  little  preponderance  in  numbers 
of  one  religion  over  the  other;  and  unless  the  presence  of 
troops,  or  worse,  of  those  savages  from  Enniskillen  or 
Derry,  excite  them,  there  is  little  fear  of  the  Protestants 
of  that  neighborhood  interfering  with  our  people,  espe* 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  135 

cially  as  they  have  no  grounds  for  complaint  in  the  past. 
No,  I  do  not  think  that  you  need  disquiet  yourself  in 
the  slightest  about  those  at  home." 

As  Captain  Davenant  had  thought  probable,  the  Irish 
army,  after  marching  into  Dublin  in  good  order,  with 
flags  flying  and  music  playing,  left  on  the  following  day 
for  the  west.  They  were  accompanied  by  most  of  the 
leading  Catholic  families;  and  on  their  departure  the 
corporation  at  once  wrote  to  William  inviting  him  to 
enter  the  capital.  Before  his  arrival,  however,  the  Prot- 
estant mob  destroyed  a  great  quantity  of  property  be- 
longing to  the  Catholics,  and  carried  their  excesses  to 
such  a  point  that  the  town  would  probably  have  been  de- 
stroyed by  fire  had  not  the  better  classes  of  Protestants 
armed  themselves  and  taken  energetic  steps  to  repress 
the  tumult. 

As  the  troops  marched  into  Dublin  Walter  said  to 
Captain  Davenant: 

"Can  I  ride  over  to  see  how  they  are  at  home?  They 
will  have  heard  of  the  battle.  Mother  and  grandmother 
must  be  terribly  anxious.'* 

"I  shall  be  glad  for  you  to  go,  Walter,  for  it  would 
greatly  ease  their  minds  at  home;  but  we  are  to  start 
again  almost  immediately,  and  probably  the  whole  army 
will  have  marched  off  before  you  get  back  in  the  morn- 
ing. There  is  no  saying  what  may  occur  after  we  have 
gone.  There  may  be  a  general  attack  upon  the  Catho- 
lics. At  any  rate  it  will  be  dangerous  in  the  extreme  for 
a  single  officer  in  our  uniform  to  be  riding  through  the 
town  after  we  have  left.  Even  in  the  country  villages 
there  must  be  intense  excitement,  and  any  one  in  the 
king's  uniform  might  be  fired  at  in  passing  through  any 
of  the  Protestant  settlements." 

"Well,  father,  suppose  I  do  not  start  until  it  gets  dark, 
then  I  can  get  home  without  attracting  notice;  there  I 


136  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

can  put  on  a  suit  of  my  old  clothes,  and  bring  my  uni- 
form out  in  my  valise." 

"Well,  perhaps  you  might  manage  in  that  way,  Walter; 
and  I  should  be  very  glad  to  relieve  their  minds  at  home, 
and  to  know  how  they  are  going  on.  If  you  like  you 
can  stop  there  for  a  day  or  two.  I  don't  suppose  that 
William  will  be  here  with  his  troops  for  a  few  days.  He 
has  learned  that  our  army  is  not  to  be  despised,  and  he 
may  hesitate  to  advance  upon  Dublin  until  he  receives 
certain  news  that  we  have  moved  away,  and  that  he  will 
not  have  to  fight  another  battle  for  the  possession  of  the 
city.  Should  you  hear  that  William's  troops  have  ar- 
rived in  the  town,  you  will  of  course  make  a  detour  so  as 
to  avoid  it  on  your  way  to  rejoin  us;  and  now  I  will  write 
a  letter  at  once  for  you  to  take  to  your  mother." 

As  soon  as  it  was  dark  Walter  mounted  and  started  for 
Bray,  where  he  arrived  without  molestation  on  the  way. 
His  arrival  was  an  immense  relief  to  the  ladies,  who  had 
been  suffering  an  agony  of  suspense  since  the  news  of  th« 
battle  had  reached  them.  King  James'  hurried  arrival 
and  panic  flight  to  Waterford  had  caused  the  most  alarm- 
ing reports  as  to  the  battle  to  circulate  throughout  the 
country,  and  by  many  it  was  supposed  that  his  army  had 
been  utterly  destroyed.  Walter's  arrival,  then,  with  the 
news  that  his  father  as  well  as  himself  had  passed 
through  the  day  unhurt,  was  an  immense  relief;  and 
they  were  grateful  to  learn  that,  so  from  having  been 
routed,  the  Irish  army  had  accomplished  its  object  of 
fighting  the  battle  and  then  falling  back  in  perfect 
order  and  without  molestation. 

"Father  says,  mother,  that  he  believes  next  time,  when 
we  shall  be  no  longer  hampered  by  the  interference  of 
the  king,  we  shall  be  able  to  make  even  a  better  fight  of 
it,  especially  if,  as  we  all  hope,  the  French  officers  will 
follow  the  king's  example  and  take  themselves  off." 


ORANGE  AND  GREEK.  137 

"How  long  are  you  going  to  stay,  Walter?" 

"I  shall  stay  over  to-morrow,  mother,  and  start  next 
morning  early.  I  ought  to  be  able  to  come  up  to  the 
army  before  night,  but  if  not  I  shall  overtake  them  on 
the  march  next  day." 

"I  wish  I  was  older,"  Godfrey,  who  had  been  listening 
to  the  account  of  the  battle,  said.  "It  is  so  hard  to  have 
to  stay  at  home  here  while  you  and  father  are  having 
such  fun!" 

"You  would  not  think  it  was  fun  if  you  were  with  us, 
Godfrey,"  Walter  said.  "I  used  to  think  it  would  be 
fun,  but  I  don't  think  so  now.  Just  while  the  fighting 
is  going  on  one  is  so  excited  that  one  doesn't  think  of 
the  danger,  but  when  it  is  over  it  is  awful  to  see  the  gaps 
in  the  ranks,  and  to  know  that  so  many  of  those  who 
were  riding  with  you  have  fallen,  and  that  it  may  be  your 
turn  next  time." 

"Ah,  it's  all  very  well  for  you  to  talk,  Walter,  because 
you  are  going  through  it  all,  but  you  would  think  just 
the  same  as  I  do  if  you  were  in  my  place." 

"That  is  true  enough,  Godfrey.  Anyhow,  I  am  glad 
you  are  not  old  enough.  I  don't  mean  that  I  should  not 
like  to  have  you  with  us,  but  then  there  would  be  nobody 
at  home  with  mother.  Now  if  anything  happens  to 
father  and  me,  she  has  got  you,  and  as  you  grow  up  you 
will  be  able  to  look  after  her  and  take  care  of  her.  It  is 
bad  enough  for  her  having  two  of  us  in  the  war;  it  would 
be  worse  still  if  there  were  three." 

As  the  next  evening  Walter  heard  that  there  was  news 
that  William's  troops  had  not  yet  moved  from  the  Boyne, 
he  thought  that  it  was  safe  to  take  the  direct  road 
through  Dublin.  He  had  laid  aside  his  uniform  on 
reaching  home,  and  in  the  morning  started  in  his  civilian 
clothes,  with  the  uniform  in  the  valise  strapped  behind 
the  saddle.  He  carried  his  sword  as  usual,  for  almost  all 


138  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

gentlemen  at  that  time  rode  armed,  and  this  would  there- 
lore  excite  neither  comment  nor  attention.  He  carried 
also  a  brace  of  pistols  in  a  belt  underneath  his  coat.  On 
arriving  in  Dublin  he  found  the  greatest  uproar  and  ex- 
citement prevailing.  Mobs  of  men  were  marching 
through  the  streets  smashing  the  windows  of  Catholics 
and  sacking  the  houses.  Fortunately,  he  was  warned 
before  he  got  into  the  thick  of  the  tumult  by  meeting 
some  women  running  and  crying  loudly.  He  asked  what 
was  the  matter,  and  learned  that  their  houses  had  been 
sacked,  and  that  any  Catholic  found  in  the  street  was 
being  beaten  and  ill-treated.  As  Walter  was  anxious  to 
avoid  anything  which  might  arrest  his  journey  westward 
he  made  his  way  out  of  the  town  as  soon  as  possible,  and 
was  heartily  glad  when  he  reached  the  outskirts  and  gave 
rein  to  his  horse.  He  passed  many  groups  of  people  as 
he  rode.  Some  were  Protestants  making  their  way  to 
Dublin  to  join  in  the  greeting  to  William  and  his  army 
on  their  arrival.  Others  were  Catholics  afraid  to  remain 
in  their  abodes  now  that  the  army  had  retired  west,  and 
journeying  to  the  capital,  where  they  believed  that  Will- 
iam would  prevent  disorder  and  pillage.  It  needed  no 
inquiry  as  to  the  religion  of  the  respective  groups.  The 
Protestants  were  for  the  most  part  men,  and  these  came 
along  shouting  and  waving  their  weapons,  wild  with  ex- 
ultation over  the  triumph  of  their  cause.  The  Catholics 
were  of  all  ages  and  both  sexes;  many  of  them  had  carts, 
and  were  carrying  with  them  their  most  valued  posses- 
sions. All  wore  an  expression  of  grief  and  anxiety. 

As  Walter  rode  into  one  village  a  fray  was  going  on. 
A  party  of  Protestants,  riding  boisterously  along,  had 
knocked  down  a  woman  with  a  child  in  her  arms,  and 
had  answered  the  angry  remonstrance  of  the  peasants 
with  jeers  and  laughter.  Stones  had  begun  to  fly;  the 
Protestants  had  drawn  their  swords;  the  villagers  had 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  139 

caught  up  hoes,  spades,  and  other  weapons,  and  a  fierce 
fight  was  going  on.  The  women  with  shrill  cries  encour- 
aged the  peasants,  and  aided  them  by  hurling  stones  at 
the  rioters.  Walter  saw  that  his  interference  would  be 
of  no  avail,  and,  with  a  heavy  heart  at  the  bitter  hatred 
which  the  two  parties  in  Ireland  exhibited  for  each 
other,  he  turned  from  the  road,  made  a  circuit  round 
the  village,  and  continued  his  way.  After  that  he 
avoided  all  towns  and  villages,  and  slept  at  night  in  the 
cabin  of  a  peasant  lying  some  little  distance  from  the 
road.  The  following  day  he  again  pressed  on,  and  before 
evening  overtook  the  retiring  army. 

On  the  arrival  of  King  William  with  his  army  in  Dub- 
lin, a  proclamation  was  issued  assuring  all  save  those  who 
resisted  his  authority  of  his  protection,  and  threatening 
severity  against  those  who  disturbed  the  peace  or  com- 
mitted outrage  on  personal  property.  Letters  of  protec- 
tion were  granted  to  all  who  applied  for  them;  and  hear- 
ing this,  Jabez  Whitefoot  at  once  went  into  Dublin  to 
apply  for  protection  for  the  family  of  Captain  Davenant. 
On  hearing,  however,  that  no  persecution  of  Catholics 
would  be  allowed,  and  that  the  army  was  likely  to  march 
west  at  once  in  pursuit  of  the  Irish,  he  thought  it  better 
to  leave  the  matter  alone,  as  his  application  would  only 
draw  the  attention  of  the  authorities  to  the  fact  of  Cap- 
tain Davenant  and  his  son  being  engaged  in  the  hostile 
army.  He  felt  sure  that  the  ladies  need  fear  no  molesta- 
tion save  from  the  soldiers  or  Northerners,  as  his  own  in- 
fluence with  the  Protestants  of  his  neighborhood  would 
suffice  to  prevent  these  from  interfering  with  the  house- 
hold at  the  castle. 

The  Irish  army  marched  toward  the  Shannon,  and 
were  concentrated  part  in  the  neighborhood  of  Athlone 
and  part  at  Limerick.  William  shortly  prepared  to  fol- 
low them.  He,  too,  divided  his  army  into  two  columns. 


140  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

The  main  body,  under  his  own  command,  took  the  road 
to  Limerick,  while  the  other  division,  consisting  of  five 
regiments  of  cavalry  and  twelve  of  infantry,  was  dis- 
patched under  the  command  of  General  Douglas  for  the 
purpose  of  investing  the  fortress  of  Athlone. 

As  the  armies  marched  west  their  path  was  marked  by 
wholesale  outrage  and  destruction.  Although  protec- 
tions were  granted  to  the  peasants  and  inhabitants  of  the 
towns  and  villages  through  which  the  armies  marched, 
they  were  entirely  disregarded  by  the  soldiers,  who 
plundered,  ill-used,  and  sometimes  murdered  the  de- 
fenseless people,  carrying  away  without  payment  all  pro- 
visions on  which  they  could  lay  their  hands. 

The  king  sometimes  hanged  those  who  were  caught  in 
these  acts  of  plunder  and  slaughter,  but  this  had  but 
little  effect.  The  Dutch  soldiers  alone  maintained  their 
order  and  discipline.  The  foreign  mercenaries,  com- 
posed for  the  most  part  of  the  sweepings  of  the  great 
cities,  behaved  with  a  brutality  and  cruelty  almost  with- 
out example,  and  which  was  acknowledged  by  all  the  his- 
torians of  the  time,  Protestant  as  well  as  Catholic.  In- 
deed, the  Protestant  inhabitants  suffered  even  more  than 
the  Catholics,  for  many  of  the  latter  fled  at  the  approach 
of  the  army,  while  the  Protestants,  regarding  them  as 
friends  and  deliverers,  remained  quietly  at  home,  and 
suffered  every  insult  and  outrage  at  the  hands  of  this 
horde  of  savages,  who  were  perfectly  indifferent  as  to  the 
religion  of  those  they  plundered. 

Captain  Davenant's  troop  was  with  the  force  which 
had  retired  to  Athlone,  and  there  awaited  the  approach 
of  the  column  of  General  Douglas.  The  reports  of  the 
conduct  of  the  enemy  that  were  brought  in  by  the  flying 
peasants  filled  the  Irish  troops  with  indignation  and  rage, 
and  when,  on  arriving  before  the  town,  General  Douglas 
sent  a  messenger  to  demand  its  surrender,  Colonel  Grace, 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  141 

who  commanded,  only  replied  by  firing  a  pistol  toward 
him. 

Athlone  stood  on  either  side  of  the  Shannon.  The 
town  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  river  was  called  "the 
English  town,"  that  on  the  western  "the  Irish" — a  dis- 
tinction existing  in  many  of  the  Irish  towns,  where  the 
early  English  settlers  found  it  expedient  to  live  apart 
from  the  Irish  for  mutual  protection  against  attack. 
Colonel  Grace  had  retired  to  the  west  bank  of  the  river, 
which  was  strongly  fortified,  destroying  the  English  town 
and  breaking  down  part  of  the  bridge  across  the  river. 

The  garrison  consisted  of  three  regiments  of  foot  and 
nine  troops  of  horse;  and  when  Douglas  erected  his  bat- 
teries and  opened  fire  on  the  castle  they  replied  tiriskly, 
and  their  guns  got  the  better  of  those  in  the  batteries. 
A  strong  detachment  of  horse  and  mounted  grenadiers 
was  sent  by  Douglas  to  Lanesborough,  some  miles  north 
of  the  town,  with  orders  to  pass  the  river  at  that  point, 
but  the  post  was  held  by  Irish  troops,  who  easily  repulsed 
the  attempt. 

It  was  next  proposed  to  pass  the  river  at  a  ford  a  short 
distance  from  the  bridge;  but  the  troops  had  little  heart 
for  the  enterprise,  as  the  ford  was  covered  by  field  works 
erected  by  the  Irish.  The  assailants  were  already  re- 
duced to  considerable  straits.  They  had  consumed  all 
provisions  found  in  the  town,  plundering  without  mercy 
the  Protestant  inhabitants,  who  had  been  well  treated  by 
the  Irish  troops,  while  the  conduct  of  the  army  effec- 
tually deterred  the  country  people  from  bringing  in 
provisions. 

The  circulation  of  the  report  that  General  Sarsfield, 
with  fifteen  thousand  men,  was  on  the  march  to  cut  off 
the  besiegers  of  Athlone,  determined  General  Douglas  to 
make  a  speedy  retreat.  In  his  fear  of  being  cut  off  he 
abandoned  all  his  heavy  baggage,  and  quitting  the  high- 


142  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

road,  made  his  way  by  unfrequented  routes,  which  added 
to  the  hardships  of  the  march.  In  its  retreat  the  column 
was  accompanied  by  the  unhappy  Protestant  inhabitants, 
who  feared  to  remain  behind  lest  the  Irish  should  retal- 
iate upon  them  the  sufferings  which  had  been  inflicted 
upon  their  countrymen. 

In  the  meantime  the  main  English  army  had  done  but 
little.  In  Dublin  a  commission  had  been  appointed  to 
examine  into  and  forfeit  the  lands  of  all  Catholics  and 
adherents  of  King  James,  and  having  set  this  machine 
at  work,  the  king  proceeded  with  his  army  southward 
through  Carlow,  Kilkenny,  and  "Waterford,  all  of  which 
places  surrendered,  the  garrisons  being  allowed  to  march 
out  with  their  arms  and  baggage  to  join  their  main  army 
on  the  Shannon. 

At  Waterford  the  king  received  such  serious  news  as 
to  the  state  of  things  in  England  that  he  determined  to 
return  home.  On  arriving  at  Dublin  he  was  overwhelmed 
with  petitions  from  the  inhabitants  as  to  the  shameful 
conduct  of  the  troops  left  in  garrison  there,  especially 
those  of  Trelawney's,  Schomberg's,  and  some  other  regi- 
ments of  horse,  who,  the  people  complained,  treated 
them,  although  Protestants,  far  worse  than  James' 
Catholic  soldiers  had  done.  Inquiry  showed  these  com- 
plaints to  be  well  founded,  and  finding  it  impossible  to 
restore  order  and  discipline  among  them,  the  king  at 
once  sent  these  regiments  back  'to  England.  Then,  re- 
ceiving better  news  from  home,  he  again  started  to  rejoin 
his  army,  and  marched  toward  Limerick,  being  joined  on 
his  way  by  the  division  under  Douglas,  which  had  driven 
along  with  them  all  the  cattle  and  horses  of  the  country 
through  which  they  had  passed. 

Limerick  was  at  that  time  the  second  city  in  Ireland. 
The  country,  for  a  long  distance  along  the  mouth  of  the 
Shannon,  was  much  wooded,  but  in  the  immediate  vicin- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  143 

ity  of  the  town  it  was  surrounded  by  thick  inclosures, 
houses,  orchards,  gardens,  and  plantations.  The  culti- 
vated land  was  everywhere  divided  into  small  fields  in- 
closed by  hedges,  and  intersected  by  lanes.  To  the  east 
of  the  town  the  Shannon  divides  itself,  forming  an  island 
on  which  part  of  the  city  is  situated. 

This  was  called  the  English  town,  and  was  connected 
by  a  bridge,  called  Thomond  Bridge,  with  the  Clare  side 
of  the  river  on  the  north,  and  on  the  south  by  another 
bridge  with  the  Irish  town  on  the  county  of  Limerick 
side.  The  Thomond  Bridge  was  defended  by  a  strong 
fort  and  some  fieldworks  on  the  Clare  side,  and  on  the 
city  side  by  a  drawbridge  flanked  by  towers  and  the  city 
Avails.  The  bridge  was  very  long  and  narrow.  The  posi- 
tion of  the  English  town  was  indeed  almost  impregnable. 
It  was  built  upon  a  rock  of  considerable  extent,  and  the 
land  outside  the  walls  was  low  and  marshy,  and  could  at 
any  time  be  flooded.  The  Shannon  was  broad  and  rapid. 
The  Irish  town  on  the  Limerick  shore  was  not  strong, 
being  defended  only  by  ordinary  walls.  If  this  were  cap- 
tured, however,  the  English  town  could  still  hold  out. 

The  king  made  his  approaches  to  the  city  slowly,  being 
obliged  to  level  the  numerous  inclosures  as  he  moved 
on.  These  were  occupied  by  the  Irish  infantry,  who, 
lining  every  hedge,  kept  up  a  galling  fire,  falling  back 
gradually  as  heavy  bodies  of  troops  were  brought  up 
against  them,  until  they  reached  the  cover  of  the  guns  of 
the  city  and  fort;  upon  these  opening  fire,  William's 
army  halted  and  encamped  before  the  Irish  town. 

Here,  as  at  the  Boyne,  the  king  had  a  narrow  escape, 
a  cannon-ball  from  the  walls  striking  the  ground  at  his 
foot  as  he  was  passing  through  a  gap  in  a  hedge. 

The  king  had  learned  that  great  dissensions  existed  be- 
tween the  Irish  and  French,  and  relied  upon  this  as  much 
as  upon  the  strength  of  his  arms  to  obtain  possession  of 
the  city. 


144  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

His  information  was  indeed  correct.  King  James  in 
his  flight  had  left  no  orders  as  to  who  should  assume  the 
supreme  command.  The  Duke  of  Berwick  had  consider- 
able claims.  Lauzun  and  the  French  officers  declined  alto- 
gether to  receive  orders  from  Tyrconnell,  and  the  Irish 
officers  equally  objected  to  act  under  the  command  of  a 
Frenchman.  Consequently,  during  the  whole  siege,  the 
main  Irish  army,  which,  by  acting  upon  William's  rear, 
could  speedily  have  made  his  position  untenable,  re- 
mained inactive.  M.  Boileau,  a  French  officer,  was  gov- 
ernor of  the  town,  but  Lauzun,  having  examined  the 
fortifications,  pronounced  the  place  wholly  incapable  of 
defense,  declaring  that  the  walls  could  be  knocked  down 
with  roasted  apples,  and  so  ordered  the  entire  French 
division  to  march  to  Galway,  and  there  await  an  oppor- 
tunity for  embarking  for  France,  leaving  the  Irish  to  de- 
fend the  city  if  they  chose. 

Lauzun,  in  fact,  was  a  courtier,  not  a  soldier.  He  de- 
sired to  get  back  to  Versailles  at  any  hazard,  and  had  so 
inspired  his  officers  and  men  with  his  own  sentiments 
that  there  was  a  general  cry  among  them  to  be  recalled 
to  France.  They  had  indeed  no  interest  in  the  cause  in 
which  they  fought.  They  looked  with  contempt  at  their 
half -armed  and  half-trained  allies,  and  they  grumbled  con- 
tinually at  the  hardships  which  they  had  to  undergo.  It 
was  indeed  an  evil  day  for  King  James'  cause  when  he 
exchanged  Mountcashel's  fine  division  for  these  useless 
allies,  who  throughout  the  war  not  only  did  no  service, 
but  were  the  cause  of  endless  dissension  and  disaster. 

As  soon  as  King  William  had  taken  up  his  position  in 
front  of  Limerick  he  sent  a  summons  to  Boileau  to  sur- 
render. The  latter  consulted  with  Tyrconnell,  Sarsfield, 
and  some  other  officers,  for  even  to  the  last  moment  it 
was  a  question  whether  the  place  should  be  defended. 

At  last,  however,  a  decision  was  made.     The  reply  was 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  145 

addressed  to  William's  secretary,  Sir  Eobert  Roultwell, 
as  Boileau  could  not  acknowledge  the  prince  as  king,  and 
was  too  polite  to  hurt  his  feelings  by  a  denial  of  the  royal 
title.  He  expressed  great  surprise  at  the  summons  he 
had  received,  and  said  that  he  hoped  to  merit  the  good 
opinion  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  better  by  a  vigorous  de- 
fense than  by  a  shameful  surrender  of  the  fortress  which 
had  been  committed  to  his  charge  by  his  master  King 
James  II. 

The  king's  camp  was  now  formed  in  regular  order;  he 
himself  taking  his  place  on  its  right,  having  near  him 
the  Horse  Guards,  and  the  Blue  Dutch  Guards,  who  were 
always  his  main  reliance.  To  the  left  of  these  were  the 
English  and  Dutch  regiments,  further  on  the  French  and 
Danes,  while  the  Brandenburghers  and  other  German 
regiments  formed  the  extreme  left  of  the  line.  To  their 
great  satisfaction  the  post  assigned  to  the  Danes  was  one 
of  the  rude  circular  redoubts  called  in  Ireland  Danish 
forts,  and  probably  constructed  by  their  own  far-off 
ancestors. 


146  OEANOE  AND  GREEN. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PLEASANT    QUARTERS. 

AFTER  the  termination  of  the  short  siege  of  Athlone 
the  troop  of  Captain  Davenant  were  dispatched  to  join 
the  army  near  Limerick,  and  on  their  arrival  there  were 
ordered  to  take  up  their  quarters  at  the  house  of  a  Prot- 
estant gentleman  named  Conyers,  four  miles  from  the 
town  on  the  Limerick  side  of  the  river. 

It  was  a  mansion  of  considerable  size,  standing  in  large 
grounds,  for  its  proprietor  was  one  of  the  largest  land- 
owners in  the  county  of  Limerick,  his  grandfather  having 
been  a  colonel  in  one  of  Cromwell's  regiments.  Mr. 
Conyers  himself  had  gone  to  Dublin,  upon  the  passing 
of  the  act  sequestrating  the  property  of  all  the  Protes- 
tants by  James'  parliament,  to  endeavor  to  obtain  a  re- 
mission of  the  decree  so  far  as  it  concerned  his  house  and 
adjoining  grounds.  As  he  had  influential  friends  there, 
he  had  remained  urging  his  petition  until  the  battle  of 
the  Boyne  and  the  entry  of  King  William  into  Dublin 
entirely  changed  the  position.  But  he  then,  owing  to 
the  disturbance  of  the  country,  and  the  fact  that  the 
Irish  army  had  retired  to  Limerick,  found  it  impossible 
to  return  home.  He  had,  however,  traveled  with  Will- 
iam's army,  to  which  he  was  able  to  give  much  useful 
information  regarding  the  defenses  and  details  of  the 
country  round  the  town. 

As  Captain  Davenant's  troop  rode  up  to  the  house  a 
lady  with  a  girl  of  some  sixteen  years  old  appeared  at  the 


I  I'; 


Ri  J^m 
u  ^flfma 

Wflft 

.  }  t^m 

*  i^ 

c     §U» 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  U7 

door.  Both  looked  very  pale,  for  they  feared  that  the 
brutal  conduct  of  which  they  had  heard  of  William's 
army  would  be  followed  by  reprisals  on  the  part  of  the 
Irish.  They  were  somewhat  reassured,  however,  by 
Captain  Davenant's  manner  as  that  officer  dismounted, 
raised  his  hat,  and  said: 

"Madam,  I  have  received  orders  to  quarter  my  troop 
in  the  house,  but  I  am  anxious,  I  can  assure  you,  to  cause 
as  little  inconvenience  and  annoyance  as  possible  under 
the  circumstances." 

"We  are  only  women  here,  sir/'  Mrs.  Conyers  said. 
"The  house  is  at  your  disposal.  I  myself  and  my  daugh- 
ter will  move  to  the  gardener's  cottage,  and  I  trust  that 
you  will  give  orders  to  your  men  that  we  shall  be  free 
from  molestation  there." 

"I  could  not  think  of  disturbing  you  in  that  manner," 
Captain  Davenant  said.  "I  myself  have  a  wife  and 
mother  alone  at  home,  and  will  gladly  treat  you  with  the 
same  courtesy  which  I  trust  they  will  receive.  Allow 
me  in  the  first  place  to  introduce  to  you  my  lieutenant, 
Mr.  0' Moore,  and  my  cornet,  who  is  also  my  son,  Walter. 
1  see  that  you  have  extensive  stables  and  out-buildings. 
I  am  sure  that  my  men,  who  are  all  good  fellows,  and 
many  of  them  the  sons  of  farmers,  will  make  themselves 
very  comfortable  in  these.  I  myself  and  my  two  officers 
will  quarter  ourselves  in  the  gardener's  cottage  you  speak 
of." 

"You  are  good  indeed,  sir,"  Mrs.  Conyers  said  grate- 
fully; "but  I  could  not  think  of  allowing  you  to  do  that, 
and  shall  indeed  be  pleased  if  you  and  your  officers  will 
take  up  your  residence  here  as  my  guests." 

"I  thank  you  kindly;  but  that  I  could  not  do.  My 
men  will  be  well  content  with  the  outhouses  if  they  see 
that  we  are  content  with  the  cottage;  but  they  might  not 
be  so  if  they  saw  that  we  took  up  our  quarters  in  the 


148  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

house.  Therefore,  if  yon  will  allow  me,  I  will  carry  out 
my  own  plan;  but  I  need  not  say  that  we  shall  be  very 
pleased  to  visit  you  in  the  house  at  such  times  as  may  be 
agreeable  to  you." 

After  expressing  their  grateful  thanks  Mrs.  Conyers 
and  her  daughter  withdrew  into  the  house.  Captain 
Davenant  then  addressed  a  few  words  to  his  men. 

"The  house  will  not  hold  you  all,  lads,  and  there  are 
Dnly  ladies  here,  and  I  am  sure  you  would  not  wish  to 
disturb  and  annoy  them  by  crowding  their  house;  there- 
fore, I  have  arranged  that  you  shall  take  up  your  quar- 
ters in  the  outhouses,  and  that  we  shall  occupy  a  little 
cottage  on  the  grounds.  I  hope,  lads,  that,  for  the 
honor  of  the  country  and  the  [cause,  all  will  behave  as 
peacefully  and  quietly  as  if  in  our  own  homes.  It  would 
be  a  poor  excuse  that  because  William's  soldiers  are  be- 
having like  wild  beasts  we  should  forget  the  respect  due 
to  lonely  women." 

A  fortnight  was  spent  here  pleasantly  for  all.  The 
first  alarm  past,  Mrs.  Conyers  felt  safer  than  she  had  done 
for  months.  Ever  since  the  troubles  had  begun  she  had 
felt  the  loneliness  of  her  position  as  a  Protestant,  and  she 
would  have  long  before  made  her  way  with  her  daughter 
to  Dublin,  had  it  not  been  that  she  thought  that  so  long 
as  she  continued  in  the  house  it  might  be  respected  by 
the  Catholic  peasantry,  while,  were  she  to  desert  it,  it 
would  probably  be  plundered,  perhaps  burned  to  the 
ground. 

Still,  the  position  was  a  very  trying  one,  especially 
since  the  Jacobite  army  began  to  gather  in  force  round 
Limerick. 

She  now  felt  that  her  troubles  were  comparatively  over. 
The  troops  caused  no  annoyance,  and  she  heard  but  little 
of  them,  while  she  found  in  Captain  Davenant  and  his 
officers  pleasant  guests.  The  troops  on  their  part  were 


ORANGE  AND  OREEN.  149 

well  satisfied.  Mrs.  Conyers  gave  instructions  that  they 
•were  to  be  supplied  with  all  they  needed,  and  their  ra- 
tions of  bread  and  meat  were  supplemented  with  many 
little  comforts  and  luxuries  from  the  house. 

While  Mrs.  Conyers  entertained  the  two  elder  officers 
Walter  naturally  fell  to  the  share  of  her  daughter,  and 
the  two  soon  became  great  friends,  wandering  in  the 
grounds,  and  sometimes  riding  together  when  Walter 
was  not  engaged  with  the  troop.  The  news  came  daily 
of  the  movements  of  William's  army,  and  when  it  ap- 
proached Captain  Davenant's  troop  went  far  out  to  ob- 
serve its  movements  and  obtain  an  accurate  idea  of  its 
strength. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  they  returned,  and 
Captain  Davenant  said  at  supper: 

"This  is  our  last  meal  with  you,  Mrs.  Conyers.  We 
leave  at  daybreak,  and  a  few  hours  afterward  William's 
army  will  arrive  before  Limerick.  We  shall  be  the  losers, 
but  you  will  be  the  gainer  if,  as  you  suppose,  Mr. 
Conyers  is  with  them." 

"I  shall  be  really  sorry  for  your  going,  Captain  Daven- 
ant. It  seemed  a  terrible  thing  having  a  troop  of  hostile 
horse  quartered  upon  one;  but  in  reality  it  has  been  a 
pleasant  operation  rather  than  not,  and  I  have  felt  safer 
than  I  have  done  for  months.  I  do  hope  that  when 
these  troubles  are  over  we  shall  renew  our  acquaintance, 
and  that  you  will  give  my  husband  an  opportunity  of 
thanking  you  for  the  kindness  with  which  you  have 
treated  us." 

"The  thanks  should  be  on  my  side,"  Captain  Davenant 
said.  "You  have  made  what  promised  to  be  an  un- 
pleasant duty  a  most  pleasant  one.  Our  stay  here  has 
been  like  a  visit  at  a  friend's,  and  I  regret  deeply  that  it 
has  to  come  to  an  end,  a  regret  which  I  am  sure  Lieutenant 
0 'Moore  and  my  son  share." 


150  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"We  do  indeed/'  the  lieutenant  said. 

Walter  and  Claire  Conyers  said  nothing.  They  had 
talked  it  over  early  that  morning  before  the  troop  started, 
and  Walter  had  expressed  his  deep  regret  that  their 
pleasant  time  was  at  an  end;  and  although  the  girl  had 
said  little  she  was  far  less  bright  and  happy  than  might 
have  been  expected,  considering  that  upon  the  following 
day  she  should  probably  see  her  father. 

Captain  Davenant's  troop  rode  off  at  daybreak,  kept 
down  the  Shannon  to  Limerick,  and,  crossing  the  bridge, 
entered  the  city  ancj  received  orders  there  to  take  up 
their  quarters  in  a  village  some  four  miles  up  the  river. 
Thus  they  were  less  than  a  mile  distant  from  Mrs. 
Conyers'  house,  although  separated  from  it  by  the  Shan- 
non, and  from  an  eminence  near  the  village,  the  roof 
and  chimneys  of  the  mansion  could  be  seen  rising  above 
the  trees  by  which  it  was  surrounded. 

During  the  day  the  sound  of  the  firing  before  Limerick 
could  be  plainly  heard;  but  little  attention  was  paid  to 
it,  for  it  was  certain  that  no  attack  could  be  made  in 
earnest  upon  the  town  until  the  battering  artillery  came 
up,  and  there  was  but  little  hope  that  the  cavalry  would 
be  called  up  for  any  active  service  at  present.  After  dinner 
Walter  stolled  out  to  the  eminence  and  looked  across  to- 
ward the  house  where  he  had  spent  so  happy  a  time,  and 
wondered  whether  Mr.  Conyers  had  by  this  time  arrived, 
and  whether  in  the  pleasure  of  his  coming  all  thought  of 
the  late  visitors  had  been  forgotten.  Presently  Larry 
sauntered  up  and  took  a  seat  on  a  wall  a  few  paces  away. 
Larry  was  a  general  favorite  in  the  troop.  He  did  not 
ride  in  its  ranks,  but  accompanied  it  in  the  capacity  of 
special  servant  of  Walter,  and  as  general  attendant  to 
the  three  officers. 

"We  had  a  good  time  of  It,  yer  honor,"  hi  said  pres- 
ently. 


ORANGB  AND  QREBlf.  151 

Walter  turned  round  sharply,  for  he  had  not  heard  him 
approach. 

"We  had,  Larry,"  he  said  with  a  smile.  "We  shall 
find  it  rougher  work  now." 

"We  shall,  yer  honor.  I  was  thinking  to  myself,"  he 
said  confidentially,  "that  if  you  might  be  wanting  to 
send  a  bit  of  a  letter  it's  meself  could  easily  make  a  boat 
with  some  osiers  and  the  skin  of  that  bullock  we  had 
given  us  for  the  rations  of  the  troops  to-day." 

"Send  a  letter,  Larry! — who  should  I  be  sending  a 
letter  to?" 

"Sure  yer  honor  knows  better  than  me.  I  thought 
maybe  you  would  be  liking  to  let  the  young  lady  know 
how  we're  getting  on  now,  and  to  find  out  whether  her 
father  has  come  home,  and  how  things  are  going.  Yer 
honor  will  excuse  me,  but  it  just  seemed  natural  that 
you  should  be  wishing  to  send  a  line;  and  a  sweeter 
young  lady  never  trod  the  sod." 

Walter  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  gleam  of  quiet 
humor  in  Larry's  face. 

"I  don't  know,  lad.  You  have  pretty  well  guessed  my 
thoughts;  but  it  can't  be.  The  opposite  bank  will  be 
swarming  with  William's  men — it  would  be  a  most  dan- 
gerous business.  No,  it's  not  to  be  thought  of." 

"Very  well,  yer  honor,  it's  just  as  you  like;  but  you 
have  only  got  to  hand  me  a  bit  of  paper,  and  give  me  a 
wink  of  your  eye,  and  I  will  do  it.  As  to  William's 
sodgers,  it's  little  I  fear  them;  and  if  all  one  hears  of 
their  ^doings  be  true,  and  I  had  a  pretty  young  creature 
a  mile  away  from  me,  with  those  blackguards  round  about 
her,  it's  anxious  I  should  be  for  a  line  from  her  hand;" 
and  Larry  got  down  from  his  seat,  and  began  to  walk 
away  toward  the  village. 

Walter  stood  silent  for  a  moment. 

"Wait,  Larry,"  he  said. 


152  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

Larry  turned  with  a  look  of  surprise  upon  his  face. 

"Come  here,'*  Walter  said  impatiently.  "Of  course  I 
am  anxious — though  I  don't  know  how  you  could  have 
guessed  it." 

"Sure,  yer  honor,"  Larry  said  with  an  innocent  look, 
"when  a  gentleman  like  yourself  is  forever  walking  and 
riding  with  a  purty  colleen,  it  don't  need  much  guessing 
to  suppose  that  you  would  be  worrying  after  her  with 
such  creatures  as  the  Northerners  and  the  furreners  in 
her  neighborhood." 

"And  you  seriously  think  you  could  take  a  letter 
across  to  her,  Larry?" 

"Sure  and  I  could,  yer  honor;  the  nights  are  dark,  and 
I  could  get  across  the  river  widout  a  sowl  being  the 
wiser,  and  make  my  way  to  the  stables  and  give  it  to  one 
of  the  boys,  who  will  put  it  in  the  hands  of  Bridget,  Miss 
Claire's  own  maid,  and  I  could  go  back  next  night  for 
the  answer." 

"But  if  you  can  do  it  I  can,"  Walter  said. 

"What  would  be  the  good,  yer  honor?  It's  only  the 
outside  of  the  house  you  would  see,  and  not  the  young 
lady.  Besides,  there's  a  lot  more  risk  in  your  doing  it 
than  there  is  with  me.  You  are  an  officer  of  the  king's, 
and  if  you  were  caught  on  that  side  of  the  river  it's 
mighty  little  trial  they'd  give  you  before  they  run  you 
up  to  the  bough  of  a  tree  or  put  a  bullet  into  you.  With 
me  it's  different.  I  am  just  a  country  boy  going  to  see 
my  cousin  Pat  Ryan,  who  works  in  the  stables  at  the 
house.  Pat  would  give  me  a  character,  no  fear." 

"Well,  I  will  think  of  it,"  Walter  said. 

"And  I  will  get  the  boat  ready  at  once,  your  honor.  A 
few  sticks  and  a  green  hide  will  make  a  boat  fit  for  Dub- 
lin Bay,  to  say  nothing  of  crossing  a  smooth  bit  of  water 
like  this." 

After  Larry  had  left  him  Walter  walked  up  and  down 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  153 

for  some  time.  He  had  certainly  thought  vaguely  that 
he  should  like  Claire  Conyers  to  know  that  he  was  still 
within  sight  of  her  house;  but  the  possibility  of  sending 
her  word  had  not  occurred  to  him  until  his  follower  sug- 
gested it.  Larry's  suggestion  of  possible  danger  to  her 
made  him  uneasy.  Even  if  her  father  was  with  the  king, 
and  had  already  returned  home,  he  would  frequently  be 
absent  in  the  camp,  and  who  could  tell  but  some  band  of 
plunderers  might  visit  the  house  in  his  absence!  The 
Protestants  had  been  plundered  and  ill-used  by  William's 
men  round  Athlone,  and  might  be  here.  It  would  cer- 
tainly be  well  to  know  what  was  going  on  across  the 
water. 

After  the  kindness  they  had  received,  surely  it  would 
be  only  civil  to  let  the  Conyers  know  where  they  were 
posted.  At  any  rate  Claire  could  not  be  oifended  at  his 
writing;  beside,  he  might  arrange  some  plan  by  which  he 
might  get  news  from  Larry's  friend,  Pat  Ryan.  As  he 
went  down  to  the  village  he  heard  roars  of  laughter,  and 
passing  a  cottage  saw  Larry  with  five  or  six  of  the 
troopers  round  him.  Larry  was  seated  on  the  ground, 
making  a  framework  in  the  shape  of  a  saucer  four  feet 
in  diameter. 

"And  what  are  you  wanting  a  boat  for,  Larry?" 

"Sure,  I  am  mighty  fond  of  fishing,"  Larry  said. 
"Didn't  you  know  that?" 

"I  know  you  are  a  fisherman  at  home,  Larry;  but  if 
it's  fishing  you  want,  there  are  two  large  boats  hauled  up 
on  the  bank." 

"They  are  too  big,"  Larry  said.  "I  should  want  half 
a  dozen  men  to  launch  them,  and  then  you  would  want 
to  go  with  me,  and  the  bare  sight  of  you  would  be  enough 
to  frighten  away  all  the  fish  in  the  Shannon.  But  I  will 
have  a  look  at  the  boats;  the  captain  might  want  a  party 
to  cross  the  river,  and  it's  as  well  to  see  that  they  are  in 


154  ORANQR  AND  GREEN. 

good  order,  and  have  got  the  oars  and  thole-pins  handy. 
I  will  see  to  them  myself,  for  there  are  not  half  a  dozen 
of  ye  know  one  end  of  the  boat  from  the  other." 

When  Walter  reached  his  quarters  he  at  once  sat  down 
to  write.  After  many  attempts  he  finished  one  as  follows: 

"DEAR  Miss  CONYERS:  After  the  kindness  shown  to 
us  by  Mrs.  Conyers  and  yourself,  I  feel  sure  that  you  will 
like  to  know  where  we  are  posted.  We  are  at  Ballygan, 
just  across  the  Shannon  opposite  to  your  house,  and  I  can 
see  your  roof  from  a  spot  fifty  yards  from  the  village.  It 
aeems  a  pleasure  to  me  to  be  so  close,  even  though  we  are 
as  much  divided  as  if  there  were  the  sea  between  us.  I 
hope  that  Mr.  Conyers  has  returned,  and  that  you  will 
have  no  trouble  with  William's  troops,  whose  reputation 
for  good  behavior  is  not  of  the  best.  I  hope  that  now 
that  you  are  among  your  friends  you  have  not  quite  for- 
gotten us,  and  that  you  will  let  me  have  a  line  to  say  how 
you  are  and  how  things  are  going  on  with  you.  My  boy 
Larry  is  going  to  take  this  across,  and  will  call  to-morrow 
night  for  an  answer,  if  you  are  good  enough  to  send  one." 

"When  will  your  boat  be  finished,  Larry?"  he  asked 
his  follower  as  the  latter  came  in,  just  as  it  was  getting 
dusk. 

"She  will  be  finished  to-morrow.  The  framework  is 
done,  and  I  could  make  a  shift,  if  your  honor  wished, 
just  to  fasten  the  skin  on  so  that  it  would  take  me  to- 
night." 

"If  you  could,  I  would  rather,  Larry." 

"All  right,  your  honor!"  Larry  said  with  a  slight 
smile;  "two  hours'  work  will  do  it." 

"I  know  where  you  are  making  it,  Larry,  and  will 
come  round  when  I  go  to  inspect  sentries,  at  eleven 
o'clock.  We  shall  post  ten  men  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
apart  on  the  bank,  and  I  will  give  orders  for  them  to 
look  out  for  you.  The  word  will  be  'Wicklow;'  so  when 
you  come  across  they  will  shout  to  you,  'Who  comes 
there*'  You  say,  'Wicklow;'  and  it  will  be  all  right." 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  165 

At  the  hour  he  had  named  Walter  went  round  for 
Larry,  who  was  working  by  the  light  of  a  torch  stuck  in 
the  ground. 

"I  have  just  finished  it,  yer  honor;  but  I  was  obliged 
to  stop  till  the  boys  got  quiet;  they  were  so  mighty  in- 
quisitive as  to  what  I  was  in  such  a  hurry  about  that  I 
had  to  leave  it  alone  for  awhile." 

"Look  here,  Larry,  here  is  the  letter,  but  that's  not 
the  principal  reason  why  I  am  sending  you  across.  You 
will  give  it  to  Pat  Eyan,  as  you  suggested,  to  pass  on 
through  Bridget  to  Miss  Conyers;  but  I  want  you  to  ar- 
range with  him  that  he  shall,  to-morrow,  get  some  dry 
sticks  put  together  on  the  bank  opposite,  with  some 
straw,  so  that  he  can  make  a  blaze  in  a  minute.  Then 
do  you  arrange  with  him  that  if  any  parties  of  William's 
troops  come  to  the  house  in  the  absence  of  Mr.  Conyers, 
and  there  should  seem  likely  to  be  trouble,  he  is  to  run 
as  hard  as  he  can  down  to  the  river;  if  it  is  day,  he  is  to 
wave  a  white  cloth  on  a  stick;  if  it  is  night,  he  is  to  light 
the  fire.  Tell  him  to  arrange  with  Bridget  to  run  at 
once  to  him  and  tell  him  if  there  is  trouble  in  the  house, 
for  as  he  is  in  the  stables  he  may  not  know  what  is  going 
on  inside.  I  have  been  looking  at  those  boats,  they  will 
carry  fifteen  men  each  at  a  pinch;  and  if  the  signal  is 
made  we  shall  not  be  long  in  getting  across.  Pat  would 
only  have  about  half  a  mile  to  run.  We  will  get  the 
boats  down  close  to  the  water's  edge,  and  it  won't  take 
us  many  minutes  to  get  across.  Anyhow,  in  twenty 
minutes  from  the  time  he  starts  we  might  be  there." 

"That  will  be  a  moighty  good  plan,  yer  honor.  Now, 
if  you  will  go  down  to  the  water  with  me  I  will  be  off  at 
once.  I  shan't  be  away  half  an  hour;  and  I  can  slip  up 
into  the  loft  where  Pat  sleeps,  and  not  a  sowl  be  the 
wiser  if  there  was  a  regiment  of  William's  troops  about 
the  house." 


156  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"All  right,  Larry!  I  shall  wait  here  for  you  till  you 
get  back." 

Larry  raised  the  light  craft  and  put  it  on  his  head. 
He  had  made  a  couple  of  light  paddles  by  nailing  two 
pieces  of  wood  on  to  mop-sticks. 

Walter  accompanied  him  to  the  water's  edge,  and  told 
the  sentry  there  that  Larry  was  crossing  the  river  on 
business,  and  would  return  in  half  an  hour's  time,  and 
that  he  was  not  to  challenge  loudly  when  he  saw  him  re- 
turning. 

The  night  was  dark,  and  Walter  soon  lost  sight  of  the 
little  boat.  Then  he  waited  anxiously;  he  had,  however, 
•but  little  fear  that  the  enemy  would  have  posted  sentries 
so  far  down  the  river,  especially  as  he  would  only  just 
have  pitched  his  camp  opposite  Limerick. 

It  was  three-quarters  of  an  hour  before  he  heard  a 
faint  splash  in  the  water.  The  sentry  heard  it  too. 

"Shall  I  challenge,  sir?'' 

"No.  Wait  for  a  minute,  we  shall  soon  see  whether 
it  is  Larry.  Should  there  be  any  one  on  the  opposite 
bank  he  might  hear  the  challenge,  and  they  would  keep 
a  sharp  lookout  in  future." 

The  sound  came  nearer  and  nearer. 

"Who  goes  there?"  Walter  said  in  a  quiet  voice. 

"  'Wicklow!'  and  it's  mighty  glad  I  am  to  hear  your 
voice,  for  it's  so  dark  I  began  to  think  I  had  lost  myself 
entirely." 

"Is  all  well,  Larry?"  Walter  asked  as  the  light  boat 
touched  the  bank. 

"All  is  well,  your  honor,"  Larry  said,  stepping  ashore 
and  lifting  the  light  boat  on  to  his  head. 

"You  had  better  stow  it  away  close  here,  Larry,  till 
the  morning;  it's  so  dark  that  you  will  be  sure  to  pitch 
over  something  if  you  go  further.  Now  tell  me  all 
about  it,"  he  went  on  as  Larry  stowed  away  the  boat 
among  some  bushes. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  157 

"There  is  little  enough  to  tell,  yer  honor.  I  just 
rowed  across  and  landed,  and  made  straight  for  the 
house.  Everything  was  quiet  and  still.  I  went  round 
to  the  stables  and  up  into  the  loft  where  Pat  sleeps.  'Are 
you  there,  Pat  Kyan,'  says  I? 

"  'Who  is  it  calls  Pat  Kyan?'  says  he. 

"  'It's  myself,  Larry,  Mr.  Davenant's  boy/ 

"  'Why,  I  thought  you  had  gone,'  says  he.  'Are  you 
sure  it's  yourself?'  says  he. 

"  'And  who  else  should  it  be,  Pat  Ryan?  Don't  yer 
know  my  voice?' 

"By  this  time  I  had  got  into  the  corner  where  he  slept, 
and  touched  him. 

"  'I  am  glad  to  feel  you,  Larry,'  says  he,  'for  I  wasn't 
sure  that  you  hadn't  fallen  in  with  the  troopers,  and  it 
wasn't  your  ghost  that  come  to  visit  me/ 

"  'Whist,'  says  I,  'I  have  no  time  to  waste  upon  ye. 
The  master  and  the  troops  are  stationed  just  across  the 
river  at  Ballygan.  Mr.  Davenant  has  given  me  a  letter 
for  Miss  Conyers,  telling  her  all  about  it.  I  don't  ex- 
actly know  what  he  said,  and  maybe  she  would  like  it 
given  privately,  so  do  you  hand  it  to  Bridget  in  the 
morning,  and  ask  her  to  give  it  her  mistress,  and  to 
hand  over  to  you  any  answer  there  may  be.  I  will  come 
across  for  it  to-morrow  night.  But  that's  not  all,  Pat. 
You  know  the  devil's  work  that  William's  men  have  been 
carrying  on  on  the  march.' 

"  'Av  course,  every  one  has  heard  the  tales  of  the  vil- 
lains' doings,  Larry.' 

"  'Well,  the  young  master  is  mighty  anxious  about  it, 
as  you  may  guess.  Has  Mr.  Conyers  come?' 

"  'Yes.     He  rode  in  at  four  this  afternoon.' 

"  'Well,  Mr.  Davenant  says  you  will  all  be  safe  as  long 
as  he's  here,  but  maybe  that  at  some  time  when  he's 
away  you  may  have  a  troop  of  these  villains  of  the  world 


158  ORANGE  AND  QRBBN. 

ride  in  here,  and  little  they  care  whether  it's  Protestants 
or  Catholics  that  they  plunder;  so  if  they  come  here  and 
begin  their  devilries,  you  run  for  your  life  down  to  the 
river,  opposite  Ballygan,  with  a  white  cloth  or  a  shirt,  if 
it's  daytime,  and  wave  it.  You  are  to  have  a  pile  of 
sticks  and  straw  ready,  and,  if  it's  night,  ye  will  just  set 
it  in  a  blaze,  and  there  will  be  help  over  before  many 
minutes.  You  stop  there  till  they  come,  to  tell  them 
how  strong  the  enemy  are. 

"  'The  master  says  you  are  to  tell  Bridget  about  it,  so 
that  if  they  misbehave  themselves  inside  the  house  she 
can  slip  out  and  let  you  know.  You  understand  that?' 

"  'I  do/  says  he;  'and  it's  a  comfort  to  me,  for  it's 
fretting  I  have  been  over  what  might  happen  if  a  troop 
of  those  murderin'  villains  were  to  come  here,  and  not  a 
BOW!  save  me  and  the  other  boys  to  take  the  part  of  the 
mistress  and  Miss  Claire.' 

"  'Well,  you  know  now,  Pat,  what's  to  be  done,  and 
eee  you  do  it;  and  now  I  must  go,  for  the  master  is  wait- 
ing for  me.  I  will  be  with  you  to-morrow  night  for  the 
answer.' 

"And  so  I  came  back,  and  I  lost  ten  minutes  looking 
about  for  the  boat,  for  it  was  so  mighty  dark  that  I  could 
not  see  a  fut.  I  kicked  against  it  and  very  near  fell  over 
it.  It's  well  I  didn't,  for  I  should  have  knocked  it  into 
smithereens  entirely!" 

"Capital,  Larry!  you  couldn't  have  done  better.  Now 
I  shall  feel  comfortable." 

After  breakfast  Walter  told  his  father  of  the  mission 
on  which  he  had  sent  Larry,  and  the  arrangement  he  had 
made  with  Pat  Eyan. 

"You  ought  to  have  told  me  at  first,  Walter.  I  do  not 
blame  you,  but  you  should  not  do  things  on  your  own 
responsibility." 

"But  so  far,  father,  it  has  not  been  a  regimental  affair. 


ORANGE  AND  QREBN.  169 

I  simply  sent  my  own  boy  with  a  note  to  Miss  Gonyers 
just  to  say  where  we  were;  but  as  it  may  be  an  affair  in 
which  some  of  the  troop  may  have  to  act,  I  have  told 
you  about  it,  so  that  you  can  make  what  arrangements 
you  like." 

"It's  rather  a  fine  distinction,  Walter,"  his  father  said, 
smiling.  "It  seems  to  me  that  you  have  engaged  us  to 
send  a  detachment  across  the  river  in  case  of  trouble  at 
Mrs.  Conyers'.  However,  I  heartily  agree  with  you  that 
our  kind  friends  should  be  protected  from  injury  and 
insult. 

"How  many  will  the  boats  hold?" 

"Thirteen  or  fourteen  men  each." 

"Very  well,  then.  I  authorize  you  at  any  time,  if  I  am 
away  with  a  portion  of  the  troop,  to  take  twenty-five  men 
across  if  the  signal  is  made.  If  I  am  here  I  shall,  of 
course,  go  over  myself.  You  can  take  any  measures  of 
preparation  you  may  think  necessary." 

Walter  availed  himself  of  the  permission,  and  at  once 
gave  orders  to  the  sentry  posted  on  the  river  in  front  of 
the  village  that  if  a  white  flag  was  waved  by  day  or  a  fire 
lit  by  night  on  the'opposite  bank,  he  was  to  shout  loudly 
and  fire  his  pistol,  and  that  these  orders  were  to  be  passed 
on  to  the  sentry  who  succeeded  him  at  the  post.  Then 
he  picked  out  twenty-five  men  and  told  them  that  at  any 
time  in  the  night  or  day,  if  they  heard  a  shot  fired  by 
the  sentry  they  were  to  seize  their  arms,  rush  down  to 
the  boats,  launch  them  and  take  their  places,  and  wait 
for  orders.  He  told  them  to  sleep  without  removing  any 
of  their  clothes,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  instant  action. 

The  next  night  Larry  again  crossed  and  brought  back 
a  little  note  from  Claire  Conyers,  thanking  Walter  for 
letting  her  know  they  were  so  close,  telling  him  of  her 
father's  return,  and  saying  that  there  was  no  fear  of  her 
mother  or  herself  forgetting  their  late  visitors.  It  was  a 


100  ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  ' 

prettily-written  little  note,  and  Waiter  was  delighted  at 
receiving  it. 

"Well,  my  boy,"  Captain  Davenant  said  with  a  little 
smile  when  Walter  told  him  next  morning  that  he  had 
heard  from  Miss  Conyers,  "as  you  seem  specially  inter- 
ested in  this  affair,  I  will  let  you. have  the  honor  and 
glory  of  being  the  first  to  come  to  the  rescue  of  Miss 
Conyers  and  her  mother  if  they  \  should  need  it;  and 
therefore,  whether  I  am  here  or  not,  I  give  you  permis- 
sion to  cross  at  once  in  the  two  'boats  if  you  get  the 
signal.  But  on  reaching  the  other  side  you  are  to  send 
the  two  boats  back  at  once,  with  1}.\o  men  in  each,  and  I 
will  bring  the  rest  of  the  troop  ac^jss  as  fast  as  possible. 
There  is  no  saying  what  force  y<Wi  may  find  there.  I 
shall  leave  it  to  your  discretion  to  attack  at  once  or  to 
wait  until  I  come  up  with  reinforcements.  You  will,  of 
course,  be  guided  partly  by  the  strength  of  the  enemy, 
partly  by  the  urgency  for  instant  interference  for  the 
protection  of  the  ladies." 

Four  days  passed  quietly;  there  was  but  little  for  the 
cavalry  to  do.  Small  parties  were  posted  at  various 
spots  for  some  miles  down  the  river  to  give  notice  should 
the  enemy  appear  on  the  opposite  bank  and  show  any  in- 
tention of  making  a  crossing;  and  beyond  furnishing 
these  guards  the  troop  had  little  to  do.  Walter  spent 
much  of  his  time  watching  the  opposite  bank.  He 
hardly  knew  whether  he  wished  the  signal  to  be  displayed 
or  not — he  certainly  desired  no  trouble  to  befall  the 
ladies;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  thought  of  rushing  to 
their  rescue  was  undoubtedly  a  pleasant  one.  Larry 
spent  much  of  his  time  at  the  water's  edge  fishing — a 
pursuit  in  which  many  of  the  troopers  joined;  and  they 
were  able  to  augment  the  daily  rations  by  a  good  supply 
of  salmon. 

On  the  fifth  day  the  officers  had  just  finished  supper 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  161 

when  the  sound  of  a  pistol-shot  was  heard.  Walter 
leaped  from  his  seat,  snatched  up  his  sword  and  pistols, 
and  ran  down  to  the  river.  The  men  were  already  clus- 
tering round  the  boats.  A  minute  later  these  were  in 
the  water,  and  the  men  jumped  on  board.  They  too 
•were  eager  for  the  work,  for  Larry  had  whispered  among 
them  that  if  the  signal  was  made  it  would  signify  that  a 
"band  of  the  enemy's  marauders  were  at  Mrs.  Conyers'; 
and  all  had  been  so  kindly  treated  there  that  they  were 
eager  to  repay  the  treatment  they  had  received.  Be- 
sides, there  was  not  a  man  in  the  Irish  army  whose  heart 
Md  not  been  fired  a\  he  recitals  of  the  brutality  of  the 
enemy,  and  filled  wil  deep  longings  for  vengeance  upon 
the  perpetrators  of  tne  deeds. 

Walter  counted  the  men  as  they  rowed  across,  and 
was  pleased  to  find  that  not  one  of  them  was  missing. 
He  ordered  the  two  nen  who  were  at  the  oars  in  each 
boat  to  return,  the  instant  the  rest  had  landed,  to  fetch 
another  detachment  across.  As  they  reached  the  land 
the  men  sprang  out.  Pat  Ryan  was  standing  at  the 
landing-place. 

"Well,  Pat,  what  is  it?" 

"A  troop  of  Hessian  horse,  your  honor.  Half  an  hour 
ago  they  rode  up  to  the  doors.  Mrs.  Conyers  came  out 
to  meet  them,  and  told  them  that  she  was  a  loyal  Protes- 
tant and  wife  of  a  gentleman  high  in  the  king's  councils, 
who  was  in  the  camp.  The  blackguards  only  laughed. 
The  officers,  with  some  of  the  men,  dismounted  and 
pushed  their  way  past  her  into  the  house,  and  the  rest  of 
the  troop  tied  their  horses  up  to  the  trees  on  the  lawn, 
and  shouted  to  me  and  some  of  the  other  boys  who  were 
looking  on  to  bring  forage.  I  suppose  we  weren't  quick 
enough  for  them,  for  one  of  them  drew  his  pistol  and 
fired  at  me.  Fortunately  he  only  hit  the  truss  of  straw  I 
was  carrying.  Then  I  went  round  to  the  back-door, 


169  GRANGE  AND  &BEBN. 

where  I  had  agreed  that  Bridget  was  to  come  to  me  if 
things  were  going  wrong  in  the  house.  A  few  minutes 
afterward  she  came  out  with  a  white  face  and  said:  'For 
the  sake  of  the  Holy  Virgin  run  for  your  life,  Pat,  and 
warn  the  soldiers!'  So  I  slipped  away  and  ran  my 
hardest." 

All  this  was  told  as  the  party  were  running  at  full 
speed  toward  the  house. 

"How  strong  was  the  troop?  '  Walter  asked. 

"About  eighty  men,  yer  honor." 

"We  must  trust  to  a  surprise,"  Walter  said.  "We  can 
get  round  to  the  back  of  the  house  without  being  seen. 
If  we  burst  in  there  suddenly  we  can  clear  the  house  and 
hold  it  till  my  father  comes  up  with  the  whole  troop." 

Five  minutes  after  they  had  left  the  boat  the  party  ap- 
proached the  house.  Walter  halted  his  men  for  a 
moment  in  the  shrubbery  behind  it. 

"Steady,  lads,  and  take  breath  You  will  follow  me 
into  the  house  and  keep  together.  Give  no  quarter  to 
the  scoundrels." 

Scarcely  had  he  spoken  than  a  piercing  scream,  accom- 
panied by  a  pistol-shot,  was  heard  within. 

"Come  on,  lads!"  Walter  exclaimed  as  he  rushed  at 
full  speed  at  the  door,  the  men  following  close  at  his 
heels. 

The  door  was  open.  In  the  passage  lay  one  of  the 
maid-servants  shot  through  the  head  by  one  of  the  Hes- 
sian troopers,  who  still  held  the  pistol  in  his  hand. 
Walter's  pistol  cracked  before  the  man  had  time  to  draw 
his  sword,  and  he  fell  dead.  Then  he  rushed  on  into  the 
hall,  in  which  were  a  score  of  troopers  gathered  round  a 
barrel  of  wine  which  had  just  been  broached.  In  an  in- 
stant the  Irish  were  upon  them.  Many  were  cut  down  or 
shot  before  they  had  time  to  stand  on  the  defensive, 
The  rest  were  slain  after  a  short  and  desperate  fight 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  163 

"Bar  the  front  door!"  Walter  shouted.  "Sergeant 
Mullins,  take  six  men  and  hold  it  against  those  outside. 
The  rest  follow  me." 

Short  as  the  fight  had  been,  it  had  given  time  to  the 
rest  of  the  Hessians  scattered  about  the  house  in  the  act 
of  plundering  to  gather  on  the  stair,  headed  by  their 
officers.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation  Walter  dashed 
at  them;  in  point  of  numbers  the  party  were  well 
matched;  but  the  fury  of  the  Irishmen  more  than  coun- 
terbalanced the  advantage  of  position  on  the  part  of  the 
Hessians. 

For  five  minutes  a  desperate  fight  raged;  those  in  front 
grappled  each  other  and  fought  with  clubbed  pistols  and 
shortened  swords;  those  behind  struck  a  blow  as  they 
could  with  sword  or  musket.  But  the  Hessians,  ignorant 
of  the  strength  of  the  force  which  had  thus  suddenly  at- 
tacked them,  thought  more  of  securing  their  safety  than 
of  defending  the  stairs,  so  several  of  those  behind  slipped 
away  and  jumped  from  the  windows  to  the  ground. 
Their  desertion  disheartened  those  in  front,  and  with  a 
shout  Walter  and  his  troopers  bore  back  the  Hessians 
on  to  the  landing  and  the  latter  then  broke  and  fled. 

Most  of  them  were  overtaken  and  cut  down  at  once; 
two  or  three  only  gained  the  windows  and  leaped  out. 
The  instant  resistance  had  ceased  Walter  rushed  into  the 
drawing-room,  bidding  the  men  run  down  and  hold  the 
lower  windows.  Mrs.  Conyers  lay  in  a  dead  faint  on  the 
sofa.  Claire,  with  a  face  as  pale  as  death,  was  standing 
beside  her. 

"Walter!"  she  gasped  out;  "then  we  are  safe!" 

She  tottered  and  would  have  fallen  had  not  Walter 
rushed  forward  in  time  to  catch  her,  and  place  her  in  a 
chair: 

"Don't  faint,  my  dear  Claire,"  he  said  urgently. 
"There  is  your  mother  to  be  looked  after,  and  I  must 
run  downstairs,  for  they  are  attacking  the  house." 


184  ORANGE  AND  GEEEN. 

"I  won't  faint,"  Claire  said,  laughing  and  crying  in  a 
manner  which  frightened  Walter  more  than  her  fainting 
would  have  done.  "I  shall  be  better  directly,  but  it 
seems  almost  like  a  miracle.  Oh,  those  dreadful  men!" 

"They  have  all  gone  now,  Claire.  We  hold  the  house 
and  have  cleared  them  out.  Pray,  calm  yourself  and  at- 
tend to  your  mother.  I  must  go.  Don't  be  frightened 
at  the  firing;  my  father  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes 
with  aid." 

"Oh!  I  am  not  frightened  now,"  Claire  said;  "and  oh! 
Walter,  you  are  bleeding  dreadfully." 

"Never  mind  that  now,"  Walter  said;.  "I  will  see  to  it 
when  it  is  all  over." 

Then,  leaving  her  to  look  after  Mrs.  Conyers,  he  ran 
downstairs.  His  right  arm  was  disabled,  he  having  re- 
ceived a  sweeping  blow  on  the  shoulder  from  one  of  the 
Hessians  as  he  won  his  way  on  to  the  landing;  but  he 
had  no  time  to  think  of  this  now,  for  his  men  were  hardly 
pressed.  For  a  moment  a  panic  had  reigned  among  the 
troopers  outside  at  the  outburst  of  firing,  and  at  the  sight 
of  their  comrades  leaping  panic-stricken  from  the  win- 
dows; but  inquiry  soon  showed  them  that  they  were  still 
greatly  superior  in  numbers  to  the  party  who  had  ob- 
tained possession  of  the  hall;  and,  furious  at  the  loss  of 
all  their  officers  and  of  many  of  their  comrades,  they  at- 
tacked on  all  sides  and  tried  to  force  their  way  in  at  the 
doors  and  lower  windows  in  spite  of  the  vigorous  resist- 
ance from  within.  Walter  hurried  from  point  to  point, 
cheering  on  his  men  by  assurance  that  help  was  at  hand, 
and  seeing  that  no  point  had  been  left  undefended. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  164 


CHAPTER  X. 

A   CAVALRY   RAID. 

STANCHLY  as  Walter's  troopers  maintained  the  de- 
fense they  were  sorely  pressed,  for  the  enemy  ptill  out- 
numbered them  by  three  to  one.  Several  times  the  Hes- 
sians almost  forced  their  way  in  at  one  or  other  of  the 
windows,  but  each  time  Walter,  who  kept  four  men  with 
him  as  a  reserve,  rushed  to  the  assistance  of  the  de- 
fenders of  the  windows  and  drove  them  back;  but  this 
could  not  last.  The  defenders  were  hard  pressed  at  sev- 
eral points,  and  Walter,  feeling  sure  that  his  father 
would  be  up  in  a  very  few  minutes,  called  the  men  off 
from  their  posts  and  stationed  them  on  the  staircase. 

With  shouts  of  triumph  the  Hessians  burst  in.  The 
hall  was  filled  with  a  crowd  of  furious  soldiers,  who 
hurled  themselves  like  a  wave  at  the  defenders  of  the 
staircase.  All  the  pistols  had  long  since  been  emptied, 
and  they  fought  sword  to  sword.  Walter  had  detached 
five  of  his  little  party  to  hold  the  top  of  the  other  stair- 
case should  the  assailants  try  to  force  a  passage  there; 
and  he  had  but  ten  men  now,  and  several  of  these- 
severely  wounded,  to  hold  the  staircase. 

Great  as  the  advantage  that  the  position  gave  the  de- 
fenders they  were  forced  up  step  by  step,  and  Walter 
began  to  fear  that  he  would  be  driven  to  the  landing  be- 
fore succor  came,  when  a  crowd  of  figures  suddenly  burst 
in  at  the  hall-door,  and  above  the  cracking  of  pistols, 
which  at  once  arose,  he  heard  his  father's  voice: 


106  ORANGE  AND  QREBlf. 

"Down  with  the  murdering  dogs!     No  quarter  I" 

Taken  wholly  by  surprise,  ignorant  of  the  force  by 
•which  they  were  attacked,  and  taken  between  two  bodies 
of  enemies,  the  Hessians  turned  to  fly.  "Walter  and  his 
men  at  once  pressed  down  upon  them,  while  the  new- 
comers fell  upon  them  with  fury. 

There  was  but  little  resistance,  for  the  Hessians 
thought  only  of  flight.  Some  burst  through  their  as- 
sailants and  gained  the  door;  more  fled  down  the  passages 
and  escaped  by  the  windows  through  which  they  had 
entered;  but  more  than  thirty  of  them  fell  in  the  hall. 
The  instant  resistance  was  over  Captain  Davenant  ran 
out  with  his  men  to  secure  the  horses.  A  few  of  the 
Hessians  who  had  escaped  from  the  front  door  had 
jumped  on  the  backs  of  the  nearest  animals  and  ridden 
off,  the  rest  had  fled  on  foot,  and  the  exulting  troopers 
counted  seventy-two  horses  remaining  in  their  hands. 
Captain  Davenant  at  once  returned  to  the  house. 

"Where  are  you,  Walter?"  he  shouted;  but  there  was 
no  answer.  Getting  more  light  Captain  Davenant 
searched  hastily  among  the  numerous  bodies  scattered  in 
the  hall  and  soon  came  upon  Walter,  who  was  lying  in- 
sensible just  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  The  excitement 
had  supported  him  so  long  as  the  defense  had  to  be  con- 
tinued; but  as  soon  as  succor  appeared  and  the  assailants 
retreated  he  had  stumbled  forward  with  his  men  and  had 
fallen  insensible  from  loss  of  blood  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs.  Captain  Davenant  hastily  examined  him. 

"Thank  God,"  he  said  to  Larry,  who  had  smuggled 
himself  over  with  the  second  detachment,  "he  has  no 
other  wound  but  this  on  the  shoulder,  and  has  only 
fainted  from  loss  of  blood!  Run  upstairs  and  snatch  a 
sheet  from  one  of  the  beds.  We  will  soon  make  some 
bandages." 

Larry  did  as  he  was  ordered.     Slips  were  torn  off  the 


ORANGE  AND  QRBttXT. 

sheet,  and  after  cutting  Walter's  coat  and  shirt  from  his 
shoulder  Captain  Davenant  bound  and  bandaged  up  the 
wound.  In  the  meantime  Larry  had  got  some  spirits 
from  the  buffet  in  the  dining-room,  and  a  spoonful  or 
two  were  poured  down  Walter's  throat,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  he  opened  his  eyes.  For  a  moment  he  looked 
confused,  then  he  smiled  at  his  father. 

"You  were  just  in  time,"  he  said.  "We  couldn't  have 
held  out  much  longer." 

"Yes,  we  were  just  in  time,  thank  God!"  his  father 
said;  "but  where  are  the  ladies?" 

"In  the  drawing-room.     Mrs.  Conyers  has  fainted." 

Captain  Davenant  ran  upstairs.  Claire  had  succeeded 
in  restoring  her  mother,  who  had  just  sat  up  when  Cap- 
tain Davenant  entered. 

"My  daughter  tells  me  that  you  have  rescued  us,  you 
and  your  son,"  she  said  faintly.  "How  can  I  thank  you 
enough?" 

"Never  mind  that  now,  my  dear  lady,"  Captain  Daven- 
ant said  hastily.  "Just  at  present  we  have  no  time  to 
lose.  The  fellows  who  have  escaped  will  carry  the  news 
to  William's  camp,  and  in  half  an  hour  we  shall  have  a 
regiment  of  cavalry  here,  I  must  retreat  at  once,  and 
carry  my  wounded  with  me.  What  will  you  do?  Will 
you  stay  here,  or  will  you  and  your  daughter  come  with 
us?" 

"Oh,  I  will  go  with  you,  please.  If  I  was  sure  my 
husband  would  come  with  them  I  would  not  fear;  brt  he 
may  not  hear  of  it,  and  there  is  no  saying  what  they 
might  do." 

"How  is  Walter,  Captain  Davenant?"  Claire — who  had 
been  waiting  impatiently  for  her  mother  to  finish — burst 
in.  "He  was  wounded,  and  there  was  such  terrible 
fighting  afterward,  and  he  has  not  come  back  with  you." 

"He  fainted  from  loss  of  blood,"  Captain  Davenant 


168  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

Baid;  "but  I  do  not  think  his  wounds  are  serious.  Mrs. 
Conyers,  I  can  only  give  you  five  minutes.  Take  with 
you  any  jewels  or  valuables  you  prize  most.  If  they 
should  arrive  without  your  husband  they  will  be  sure  to 
sack  and  burn  the  house." 

Captain  Davenant  now  hurried  downstairs.  The 
wounded  had  already  been  collected.  There  were  but 
four  so  seriously  wounded  as  to  be  unable  to  walk;  six 
had  been  killed.  The  wounded,  including  Walter,  lay 
oil  blankets.  Men  took  each  a  corner  and  at  once  started 
to  the  spot  where  the  boats  had  been  left.  Captain 
Davenaut  told  four  men  to  wait  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
while  he  went  up  to  the  drawing-room.  Mrs.  Conyers 
and  her  daughter  were  already  prepared.  Each  had 
thrown  a  shawl  over  her  head  and  had  in  their  hands  the 
dressing-cases,  containing  Mrs.  Conyers'  jewelry. 

"Now,  madam,"  Captain  Davenant  said,  "if  you  will 
point  out  your  plate-chest  I  have  four  men  below  in 
readiness  to  carry  it  to  the  boat.  It  is  no  use  leaving 
that  to  be  divided  between  the  marauders." 

Mrs.  Conyers  pointed  out  two  chests,  in  one  of  which 
deeds  and  other  valuable  documents  were  kept,  and  in 
the  other  the  plate,  of  which  Mrs.  Conyers  had  a  con- 
siderable quantity.  Two  men  seized  each  of  them. 

"Now,  Mrs.  Conyers,  please  accompany  them  as  quick 
as  you  can  to  the  river.  We  will  follow  and  cover  the 
retreat.  I  think  we  have  a  few  minutes  yet  before  cav- 
alry can  arrive  from  the  camp." 

Whon  Captain  Davenant  and  the  rearguard  reached 
the  bank  they  found  that  the  boats  had  already  returned 
after  taking  over  the  wounded  and  a  portion  of  the  de- 
tachment. The  rest,  with  the  two  ladies  and  the  female 
servants,  at  once  took  their  places,  and  were  taken  across 
before  any  sound  betokened  the  arrival  of  the  enemy  at 
the  hall. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  169 

"I  sincerely  hope,  Mrs.  Cony  era,"  Captain  Davenant 
said  as  they  landed,  "that  Mr.  Conyers  may  accompany 
the  first  body  of  troops  who  arrive,  for  if  not  I  fear  they 
will  set  fire  to  the  hall.  They  must  have  lost  consider- 
ably over  fifty  men,  and  in  their  rage  at  finding  no  one 
on  whom  to  wreak  their  vengeance  they  will  make  no  in- 
quiry as  to  whom  the  house  belongs;  indeed,  they  will 
find  no  one  there  to  ask.  The  servants  of  the  house  had 
already  fled,  and  I  sent  my  boy's  servant  Larry  round  to 
the  stables  to  tell  the  men  there  to  ride  away  with  the 
horses.  They  will  accompany  fifteen  of  my  men,  who 
mounted  as  many  of  the  horses  we  captured,  and  are 
driving  the  rest  to  a  ford  some  miles  away.  They  are 
a  valuable  capture,  and  altogether,  as  far  as  we  are  con- 
cerned, we  have  made  a  good  night's  work  of  it." 

"But  I  do  not  understand  now,"  Mrs.  Conyers  said, 
"how  it  was  that  you  came  across  just  in  time.  How  did 
you  know  that  we  were  in  such  trouble,  because  I  am 
sure  you  would  not  have  come  across  to  attack  the  sol- 
diers in  our  house  without  some  special  reason?" 

"No,  indeed,  madam,  I  certainly  should  not  have  made 
your  house  a  battlefield.  The  fact  is,  our  fortunate  ar- 
rival is  due  entirely  to  my  son.  He  made  all  the  arrange- 
ments without  my  knowing  anything  about  it.  He  sent 
over  his  boy  to  one  of  your  lads  in  the  stable,  and  ar- 
ranged that  if  there  should  be  any  trouble  in  the  house 
in  the  absence  of  Mr.  Conyers  he  should  run  down  and 
signal  across  the  river.  Your  daughter's  maid  was  to  let 
the  boy  know  what  was  going  on  within.  It  was  not  till 
he  had  the  whole  business  in  train  that  Walter  told  me 
anything  about  it.  As  it  was  his  plan  and  not  mine,  and 
I  could  see  he  was  extremely  anxious  about  it,  I  left  the 
matter  in  his  hands,  and  authorized  him  to  lead  the  first 
party  across  whenever  the  signal  was  made,  night  or 
day.  Our  boats  would  only  carry  twenty-five  men,  and 


170  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

four  of  these  had  to  return  with  them.  As  "Walter  would 
have  but  a  quarter  of  our  force  with  him  I  ordered  him, 
in  case  the  signal  was  made  and  he  crossed,  not  to  attack 
until  I  joined  him  unless  the  necessity  seemed  very 
urgent.  I  suppose  he  considered  it  was  so,  for  he  would 
hardly  have  fallen  upon  some  eighty  or  ninety  troopers 
unless  he  had  deemed  it  most  urgent. " 

"Thank  God  he  did  so!"  Mrs.  Conyers  said,  "for  we 
owe  him  our  lives  and  more.  I  cannot  tell  you  all  now. 
It  is  too  horrible  to  think  of.  But  I  shall  never  forget 
the  thankfulness  and  joy  I  felt  when  suddenly  I  heard 
the  noise  of  shouts  and  firing,  and  the  men  who  were 
trying  to  tear  my  child  from  my  arms  suddenly  desist 
and  rushing  out  of  the  room  left  us  alone.  I  fainted 
then,  and  knew  nothing  more  till  I  heard,  in  a  confused 
way,  the  sound  of  shouting  and  conflict,  and  Claire  waa 
bending  over  me,  telling  me  that  your  son  was  holding 
the  stairs  against  the  Germans,  and  that  he  was  expect- 
ing help  to  arrive  every  moment.  Where  is  he?  I  long 
to  see  him  and  give  him  my  thanks  and  blessing." 

"He  is  in  that  cottage  yonder,  which  is  at  present  our 
quarters,"  Captain  Davenant  said.  "I  told  them  to  send 
off  a  trooper  to  Limerick  for  a  doctor  as  soon  as  they  got 
across." 

"But  you  assured  me  his  wound  was  not  dangerous," 
Mrs.  Conyers  said  anxiously. 

"No,  I  am  sure  it  is  not.  It  is  a  severe  wound,  but 
not  likely  to  have  serious  consequences.  But  I  fear  that 
some  of  the  men  are  in  a  far  worse  condition." 

"I  shall  install  myself  as  head  nurse,"  Mrs.  Conyers 
said  decidedly.  "We  owe  so  much  to  you  all  that  that 
is  the  least  I  can  do." 

"Very  well,  Mrs.  Conyers.  Then  I  appoint  you  head 
of  the  hospital.  I  will  have  the  four  seriously  wounded 
men  moved  into  the  cottage  next  to  mine.  You  will  be 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  i71 

able  to  obtain  plenty  of  assistance  among  the  women  of 
the  village.  O'Moore  and  I  will  move  into  other  quar- 
ters and  leave  the  cottage  to  you  and  your  daughter. 
Your  servants  can  have  the  cottage  on  the  other  side." 

They  had  now  reached  the  door. 

"I  will  just  go  in  and  see  him  first,"  Captain  Daven- 
ant  said. 

Larry  was  sitting  by  Walter's  couch. 

"Well,  Walter,  how  are  you  feeling?" 

"Oh,  I  am  all  right  now,"  Walter  said,  "since  Larry 
brought  me  word  that  the  boats  have  brought  every  one 
across  safely.  I  was  anxious  before,  you  know." 

"How  does  your  shoulder  feel?" 

"It  throbs  a  bit,  father;  but  that  is  no  odds." 

"Mrs.  Conyers  is  coming  in  to  see  you.  She  is  going 
to  establish  herself  here,  and  O'Moore  and  I  are  moving 
out.  She  is  going  for  the  present  to  be  head  nurse." 

"That  will  be  nice,"  Walter  said;  "but  I  shan't  want 
much  nursing." 

"I  don't  know,  Walter.  A  downright  cut  with  a  heavy 
cavalry  sword  is  not  a  light  matter,  even  when  it  falls  on 
the  shoulder  instead  of  the  head.  But  you  had  better 
not  talk  much  now,  but  when  you  have  seen  Mrs.  Con- 
yers try  and  get  off  to  sleep.  Larry,  do  you  see  to  mov- 
ing our  things  out  at  once." 

So  saying,  Captain  Davenant  left  the  room,  and  a 
minute  later  Mrs.  Conyers  came  in.  She  took  the  left 
hand  that  Walter  held  out  to  he*. 

"God  bless  you,  my  boy!"  she  said  softly.  "I  shall 
never  forget  what  Claire  and  I  owe  to  you.  All  my  life 
I  shall  be  your  grateful  debtor,  and  some  day  I  hope  that 
my  husband  will  be  able  to  thank  you  for  what  you  did 
for  us.  And  now,"  she  went  on  in  a  lighter  tone,  "I 
am  going  to  be  your  nurse,  and  my  first  order  is  that  you 
lie  quite  quiet  and  try  to  get  to  sleep.  I  will  make  you 


172  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

some  barley-water  and  put  it  by  your  bedside.  That  IB 
all  I  can  do  for  you  till  the  surgeon  comes  to  examine 
your  wound.  Claire  wanted  to  come  in  to  thank  you 
herself,  but  the  child  has  ^one  through  enough  for  one 
night,  so  I  have  sent  her  straight  to  bed.  I  do  not  want 
her  on  my  hands  too." 

A  few  minutes  later  Larry,  having  established  the  two 
officers  in  another  cottage,  returned  and  took  his  place 
"by  Walter's  bedside,  while  Mrs.  Conyers  went  out  to  see 
to  the  comfort  of  the  other  wounded.  Half  an  hour 
later  a  surgeon  arrived  from  Limerick.  Two  of  the  cases 
were  pronounced  at  once  to  be  hopeless,  the  other  two  he 
thought  might  recover.  "Walter's  wound  he  said  was  a 
severe  one,  but  in  no  way  dangerous.  The  sword  had 
probably  glanced  off  something  as  it  descended,  so  that 
the  edge  had  not  fallen  straight  on  the  shoulder-bone. 
It  had,  however,  nearly  taken  off  the  arm.  Had  it  fallen 
truly  it  would  probably  have  been  fatal. 

After  he  had  attended  to  the  more  serious  cases  he 
dressed  the  wounds  of  the  other  men,  several  «,f  which 
were  quite  as  severe  as  that  of  Walter,  although  they  had 
not  incapacitated  the  men  from  making  their  way  down 
to  the  boats. 

Captain  Davenant  had  kept  a  watch  toward  the  hall. 
And  as,  in  an  hour  after  they  had  crossed,  no  sheet  of 
flame  was  seen  arising  thence,  he  was  able  to  tell  Mrs. 
Conyers  that  he  thought  that  it  was  safe,  and  that  either 
Mr.  Conyers  himself  must  have  accompanied  the  troops 
who  would  by  this  time  have  unquestionably  arrived 
there,  or  that  some  officer,  aware  that  the  owner  of  the 
house  was  a  friend,  and  with  sufficient  authority  over  the 
men  to  prevent  its  destruction,  must  be  in  command. 

In  the  morning  he  had  a  long  talk  with  her.  He  sug- 
gested that  she  and  her  daughter  should  accompany 
him  into  Limerick,  and  be  sent  with  a  Hag  of  truce 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  173 

across  the  bridge  to  join  her  husband  in  William's  camp. 
This,  however,  she  positively  declined  to  accede  to. 

"In  the  first  place,"  she  said,  "I  consider  that  it  is  my 
duty  to  nurse  the  men  who  suffered  for  our  sake.  In  the 
next  place,  after  what  we  went  through  last  night  I  re- 
fuse absolutely  to  place  myself  and  my  daughter  in  the 
hands  of  the  ruffians  who  disgrace  the  cause  of  William. 
Hitherto  as  a  Protestant  I  have  been  an  adherent  of  that 
cause,  as  has  my  husband;  henceforth  I  am  an  Irish 
woman,  and  as  such  abhor  a  cause  which  can  employ 
such  instruments  and  inflict  such  atrocities  upon  Ireland. 
I  will  write  a  letter  to  my  husband  telling  him  exactly 
what  has  happened,  and  how  we  have  been  preserved, 
and  say  that  nothing  will  induce  me  to  trust  myself  and 
Claire  among  William's  troops,  but  that  I  shall  remain 
on  this  side  of  the  Shannon.  If,  as  I  trust  will  not  be  the 
case,  the  English  force  their  way  across  the  river,  I  shall 
make  for  Galway,  and  thence  take  ship  to  England, 
where  we  can  join  him.  I  intend  to  remain  here  as  long 
as  I  can  be  useful  as  a  nurse,  and  I  shall  then  retire  with 
Claire  to  Galway,  where  I  have  some  relations,  with  whom 
I  can  stay  until  matters  are  decided." 

Mrs.  Conyers  at  once  wrote  the  letter,  which  Captain 
Davenant  carried  himself  into  Limerick,  as  he  was  going 
in  to  report  the  occurrences  of  the  preceding  night.  The 
governor  immediately  sent  the  letter  across  with  a  flag  of 
truce.  General  Sarsfield,  who  was  in  command  of  the 
cavalry,  expressed  himself  highly  pleased  with  the  result 
of  the  raid  across  the  Shannon,  and  appointed  three 
officers  to  raise  another  troop  of  horse  with  the  captured 
animals,  which  had  arrived  before  morning  at  Ballygan, 
and  to  place  themselves  under  Captain  Davenant's  com- 
mand. 

"Your  son  must  be  a  lad  after  your  own  heart,"  he 
said  to  Captain  Davenant.  "It  was  indeed  a  most  gal- 


174  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

lant  action  thus  with  twenty-five  dismounted  men  only 
to  attack  a  strong  troop  of  Hessians.  I  hope  that  as 
soon  as  he  is  well  enough  to  mount  a  horse  again  you  will 
introduce  him  to  me.  Keep  your  troop  in  readiness  for 
a  move,  for  I  mean  to  beat  them  up  before  long." 

"Can't  I  see  Walter  to-day,  mamma?"  Claire  asked, 
after  Captain  Davenant  had  ridden  off.  "It  seems  so 
unkind  my  being  in  the  house  with  him  and  not  going 
in  to  tell  him  how  sorry  I  am  that  he  was  wounded." 

"Not  to-day,  Claire.  He  is  very  flushed  and  feverish 
this  morning,  and  I  must  not  have  him  excited  at  all." 

"But  I  would  not  excite  him,  mother.  I  would  only 
go  in  and  speak  to  him  quietly." 

"Even  that  would  excite  him,  my  dear.  I  will  tell  him 
that  you  want  to  come  in  and  see  him;  but  that  I  think 
you  had  better  not  do  so  for  a  day  or  two." 

But  even  without  the  excitement  of  Claire's  presence 
Walter  became  more  feverish,  and  by  evening  was  talk- 
ing wildly.  The  excitement  and  anxiety  he  had  gone 
through  were  as  much  responsible  for  this  as  the  wound, 
and  by  midnight  he  knew  no  one.  The  surgeon,  who 
came  over  in  the  evening,  order  cloths  constantly  soaked 
with  fresh  water  to  be  placed  round  his  head,  and  that 
he  should  be  given,  whenever  he  desired  it  barley-water 
sharpened  by  apples  boiled  in  it. 

Mrs.  Conyers  and  Larry  sat  one  on  each  side  of  his 
couch,  and  once  or  twice  when  he  was  lying  quiet  Claire 
was  allowed  to  steal  in  and  look  at  him;  but  at  other 
times  Mrs.  Conyers  kept  her  out  of  the  room,  for  in  his 
feverish  talk  Walter  was  constantly  mentioning  her 
name,  and  telling  her  he  would  come  to  her.  Mrs.  Con- 
yers was  troubled  and  perplexed  in  her  mind.  Eegard- 
ing  Claire  as  a  child  and  Walter  as  a  lad  of  eighteen,  the 
thought  that  any  serious  consequence  would  arise  from 
their  intercourse  at  the  hall  had  not  occurred  to  her;  but 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  175 

now  she  could  not  doubt  that  on  Walter's  part  at  least  a 
serious  attachment  for  her  daughter  had  sprung  up,  and 
Claire's  face  and  manner  told  her  a  similar  story.  She 
was  but  sixteen,  but  having  been  her  mother's  compan- 
ion and  friend  she  was  older  than  many  girls  of  the  same 
age.  Mrs.  Oonyers  would  rather  that  it  had  not  been  so, 
for  she  foresaw  much  sorrow  for  Claire.  She  had 
thought  that  her  daughter,  as  a  wealthy  heiress,  would 
some  day  make  a  good  match,  and  Walter,  whose  fortune 
in  any  case  would  be  but  a  small  one — for  she  knew  that 
his  father's  estates  had  passed  from  the  family — was  a 
soldier  on  the  side  she  believed  would  be  the  losing  one. 
Still  she  felt  that  he  had  earned  a  right  to  Claire,  and 
resolved  that  come  what  would,  if  it  turned  out  that 
Claire's  affections  were  really  given  to  the  lad,  she  should 
have  her  support  and  championship  with  her  father. 

For  two  days  the  fever  continued,  and  then  the  care  of 
his  watchers  prevailed,  and  Walter  sank  into  a  quiet 
sleep  from  which  he  awoke  sensible  and  refreshed.  An 
answer  had  been  received  from  Mr.  Conyers  on  the  same 
afternoon  that  his  wife's  letter  was  sent  to  him.  He  had 
been  in  council  with  the  king,  when  an  officer  came  in 
with  the  news  that  some  Hessians  had  ridden  in  saying 
that  the  troop  to  which  they  belonged  had  ridden  out  to 
a  large  house  two  miles  beyond  the  spot  at  which  the 
regiment  was  quartered,  and  had  there  been  attacked  by  a 
body  of  Irish  troops,  who  had  killed  all  their  officers  and 
three-quarters  of  the  troop. 

"Knowing  where  the  regiment  was  quartered,  it  at 
once  struck  me  that  the  house  might  be  our  own,  and  on 
the  trooper  being  brought  in  I  found  that  it  was  so,  and 
obtained  permission  from  the  king  to  accompany  the 
regiment  of  Danish  horse  who  were  at  once  sent  out. 
The  king  gave  stringent  orders  to  the  officer  in  command 
that  the  house  was  to  be  respected,  and  a  guard  was  to 
be  placed  there  to  protect  it  from  marauders.  You  can 


176  ORANGE  AND  OEEEN. 

imagine  my  anxiety  as  I  rode  out,  and  how  it  was  in« 
creased  when  I  found  the  place  absolutely  deserted. 
Prom  the  trooper  whom  we  took  with  us  we  learned 
something  of  what  had  taken  place.  He  had  been  in  the 
garden,  but  the  officers  and  nearly  half  the  troopers  were 
in  the  house.  Suddenly  the  sounds  of  a  conflict  were 
heard  within.  Then  many  of  his  comrades  jumped  from 
the  windows,  and  as  they  reported  the  number  of  the 
assailants  was  not  large,  an  attack  was  made  upon  the 
liouse.  After  considerable  loss  an  entrance  was  effected, 
and  they  were  gradually  overcoming  the  defenders  when 
they  were  attacked  in  the  rear  by  a  fresh  body  of  the 
enemy,  and  only  a  few  of  them  managed  to  make  their 
escape. 

"The  appearance  of  the  house  fully  corroborated  hia 
story.  The  inside  was  piled  with  dead,  who  were  found 
scattered  all  over  the  house.  Among  them  were  a  few 
men  in  the  uniform  of  one  of  the  Irish  cavalry  legiments. 
This  was  some  alleviation  to  my  terrible  anxiety.  Had 
the  assailants  been  a  body  of  peasants  I  should  have 
feared  that  they  had  wreaked  on  you  and  Claire  the 
hatred  which  they  feel,  I  own  not  unjustly,  toward  the 
king's  foreign  troops.  As  they  were  regular  soldiers  I 
had  hopes  that  they  had  only  carried  you  off  as  hostages. 

"One  of  the  female  servants  was  found  below  killed. 
"No  pursuit  was  possible,  as  we  could  find  no  one  of  whom 
to  inquire  by  which  way  the  enemy  retreated;  but  in  the 
morning  we  found  that  the  horses  of  the  Hessians  had 
been  ridden  to  a  spot  some  miles  up  the  river,  where  they 
had  swam  or  forded  the  stream.  There  was  a  strong 
party  of  the  enemy  on  the  opposite  side.  My  anxiety 
was  terrible  till  I  received  your  letter,  and  you  may  im- 
agine how  great  a  shock  it  was  to  me  to  learn  the  fright- 
ful scene  through  which  you  had  passed,  and  how  my 
sentiments  changed  toward  those  whom  I  had  regarded 
as  your  abductors,  but  whom  I  now  learn  were  your 
saviours. 

"I  have  read  that  portion  of  your  letter  to  the  king, 
who  is  furious  at  the  evil  conduct  of  his  troops.  He  has 
all  along  done  everything  in  his  power  to  repress  it;  but 
when  not  under  his  immediate  eye,  it  seems  as  if  all  dis- 
cipline was  lost,  and  the  troops  behaved  rather  as  a  horde 
of  savages  than  as  soldiers.  After  what  had  happened  I 


CAPTAIN  DAVBNANT  AND  HIS  OFFICERS  PHINK  TO  KING  JAMES.  O  &  G 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  177 

cannot  blame  you  for  the  opinion  you  express  in  your 
letter,  or  for  your  determination  not  to  trust  yourself  and 
Claire  in  this  camp,  although  I  am  sure  that  the  king 
would  send  a  detachment  of  his  own  Dutch  guards  with 
you  to  Dublin.  I  trust  that  you  will,  as  soon  as  the  work 
you  have  undertaken  is  over,  go  to  our  cousins  at  Galway 
and  take  ship  without  delay  to  England,  where  I  will  at 
once  join  you  when  I  hear  of  your  arrival  there. 

"Please  express  to  Captain  Davenant  and  his  son  the 
extreme  obligation  under  which  I  feel  toward  them,  and 
assure  them  that  I  look  forward  to  the  time  when  this 
unfortunate  struggle  shall  be  at  an  end,  and  I  can  meet 
them  and  thank  them  personally.  It  will  be  a  satisfac- 
tion to  you  to  be  able  to  inform  them  that  I  have  this 
morning  obtained  from  the  king  a  peremptory  order  on 
the  commission  in  Dublin  to  stay  all  proceedings  in  the 
matter  of  Captain  Davenant's  estate  near  Bray,  which 
was  on  the  list  of  confiscated  properties.  I  am  forward- 
ing this  by  one  of  the  royal  messengers,  who  leaves  with 
dispatches  to-day,  and  when  I  visit  Dublin  I  shall  do  my- 
self the  pleasure  of  calling  on  Mrs.  Davenant,  and  of 
setting  her  mind  at  ease." 

While  Walter  had  been  at  his  worst  his  father  had  been 
away  for  only  a  few  hours.  After  his  interview  with 
Sarsfield  in  Limerick  a  messenger  arrived  from  that  gen- 
eral ordering  Captain  Davenant  to  bring  his  troop  into 
the  city  at  once.  It  was  four  in  the  afternoon  when  he 
arrived,  and  he  at  once  went  to  General  Sarsfield's  quar- 
ters. 

"Let  the  men  dismount,  Captain  Davenant,  and  let 
them  and  the  horses  feed.  We  have  a  long  ride  before  us 
to-night.  I  have  just  heard  that  William's  siege  artillery 
is  coming  up  under  a  weak  escort,  and  I  mean  to  get 
round  in  the  Dutchman's  rear  and  destroy  it.  He  shall 
find  that  Limerick  is  not  to  be  taken  as  easily  as  he  ex- 
pects. He  has  had  a  disagreeable  sample  of  our  quality 
to-day.  A  deserter  brought  in  news  of  the  exact  position 
of  his  tent,  and  our  artillery  have  been  giving  him  such 


178  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

a  peppering  that  from  the  church-tower  we  see  that  he 
has  been  obliged  to  move  his  camp." 

As  soon  as  it  was  night  four  hundred  cavalry  were  in 
the  saddle.  Sarsfield  placed  himself  at  their  head,  and 
rode  twelve  miles  up  the  Shannon  to  Killaloe.  Crossing 
the  river  there  he  made  a  wide  sweep  with  his  cavalry 
until  he  was  in  the  heart  of  the  Tipperary  mountains  in 
rear  of  William's  camp. 

Quietly  as  the  expedition  had  been  carried  out  it  was 
impossible  that  so  large  a  body  of  horse  should  ride 
through  the  country  unperceived,  and  a  gentleman  of 
County  Clare,  named  O'Brian,  thinking  that  he  would 
gain  honor  and  advantage  by  reporting  their  passage  to 
William,  set  out  for  the  British  camp.  Being  unknown 
there,  he  was  a  long  time  before  he  could  get  access  to 
the  king.  The  officers  to  whom  he  spoke  paid  little  at- 
tention to  his  story  about  a  body  of  Irish  horse  passing 
through  the  country,  and  were  much  more  interested  in 
gaining  information  from  him  as  to  the  state  of  the  stock 
of  cattle,  sheep,  and  pigs  in  his  part  of  the  county;  for 
owing  to  the  terror  excited  by  the  conduct  of  William's 
soldiers  the  people  for  many  miles  round  had  driven  off 
their  stock  and  left  the  villages,  and  provisions  were 
already  becoming  scarce  in  the  camp. 

At  length,  however,  one  of  those  to  whom  he  had 
spoken  mentioned  his  story  to  the  king,  who  at  once  sent 
for  him  and  saw  the  importance  of  the  news  he  brought. 
O'Brian  himself  had  no  idea  of  the  object  of  Sarsfield's 
expedition,  but  the  king  instantly  guessed  that  it  was  the 
Biege-train.  He  therefore  ordered  a  large  body  of  cavalry 
to  be  immediately  dispatched  to  meet  the  artillery  on  its 
way  and  protect  it  into  camp. 

All  day  Sarsfield  remained  in  concealment  among  the 
mountains,  until  toward  evening  the  train  came  in  sight, 
moving  slowly  with  its  escort  of  two  troops  of  dragoons 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  179 

along  the  highroad.  He  watched  it  until  it  halted  and 
encamped  for  the  night  in  a  field  beside  the  highway. 
He  waited  until  the  horses  were  picketed  and  the  men. 
engaged  in  making  their  encampment  for  the  night.  Then 
the  Irish  cavalry  burst  down  from  the  glen  in  which  they 
had  been  hiding.  The  officer  in  command  sounded  to 
horse,  but  it  was  too  late;  before  the  men  were  in  the 
saddle  the  Irish  were  upon  them,  and  in  a  moment  the 
two  troops  of  dragoons  were  dispersed  or  killed. 

Sarsfield's  men  at  once  set  to  to  collect  the  powder- 
wagons,  pontoons,  and  baggage  of  every  description. 
The  great  guns  were  filled  with  powder  to  the  muzzle, 
and  then  buried  two-thirds  of  their  length  in  the  earth, 
the  whole  mass  of  siege  equipage  was  piled  above  them, 
and  a  train  of  gunpowder  was  laid  to  the  store  in  the 
center.  The  men  then  drew  off  to  a  distance.  A  match 
was  applied  to  the  train,  and  the  whole  blew  up  with  a 
tremendous  explosion. 

The  shock  was  heard  in  the  far-away  camp  of  "William, 
and  he  knew  that  his  cavalry  had  arrived  too  late  to 
avert  the  catastrophe  he  feared.  They  had,  indeed,  just 
arrived  within  sight  of  the  spot  when  the  explosion  took 
place.  They  rode  on  at  full  speed  only  to  find  the  vast 
pile  of  ruined  woodwork  blazing  furiously.  The  Irish 
cavalry  was  seen  in  the  distance  leisurely  retiring;  but 
although  the  English  pursued  for  a  short  time,  the  Irish 
easily  evaded  them  in  the  darkness  among  the  hills.  The 
whole  of  William's  cavalry  in  camp  were  sent  out,  when 
the  explosion  was  felt,  to  endeavor  to  cut  off  the  Irish 
horse;  but  Sarsfield  was  well  acquainted  with  the  ground, 
and  retired  with  his  troops  safely  across  the  Shannon,  hav- 
ing struck  a  terrible  blow  against  the  designs  of  William. 

The  king,  however,  found  that  in  spite  of  the  measures 
Sarsfield  had  taken,  two  of  the  guns  remained  uninjured 
by  the  explosion.  These  were  brought  to  the  camp,  and 


180  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

another  heavy  gun  wa3  fetched  from  Waterford,  to- 
gether with  a  small  quantity  of  ammunition.  The  regi- 
ments were  at  once  set  to  manufacture  fascines  for  the 
siege,  and  this  work  proceeded  quickly,  the  orchards  and 
plantations  furnishing  an  abundance  of  wood.  The 
fascines  were  used  for  filling  up  ditches,  and  the  ad- 
vances against  the  town  were  pushed  forward  with  vigor. 
But  the  besiegers  were  not  allowed  to  carry  on  their  work 
unmolested,  for  a  constant  fire  was  kept  up  by  the  guns 
on  the  walls,  and  the  besieged  made  several  sorties,  driv- 
ing back  the  working  parties,  destroying  their  work,  and 
retiring  before  any  considerable  bodies  of  troops  could 
be  brought  up  to  attack  them.  The  three  heavy  guns 
were,  however,  brought  into  position  at  a  short  distance 
from  the  wall,  and  began  to  play  upon  it. 

The  dissensions  between  the  Irish  commanders  still 
continued  and  beyond  Sarsfield's  raid  against  the  batter- 
ing train,  nothing  was  done  to  annoy  the  enemy  in  the 
rear,  although,  had  any  vigor  been  shown,  the  Irish  army 
lying  idle  west  of  the  Shannon  could  have  moved  across, 
and  speedily  starved  out  William's  army  by  cutting  off 
all  supplies.  Even  as  it  was,  provisions  could  only  be 
collected  by  sending  out  strong  bodies  of  troops  to 
plunder  the  country;  for  the  peasantry  had  been  goaded 
into  fury  by  the  evil  conduct  of  the  troops,  and  were  now 
in  a  state  of  insurrection,  cutting  off  and  murdering  all 
stragglers,  and  driving  in  small  parties.  William  had 
good  reason  to  regret  that  he  had  brought  with  him  so 
Email  a  contingent  of  British  troops,  owing  to  his  doubts 
whether  they  could  be  depended  upon,  and  his  poor  opin- 
ion of  their  bravery;  for  since  the  days  of  Agin  court 
English  troops  had  been  seldom  seen  on  the  Continent, 
and  were  consequently  held  but  in  small  esteem  there. 
He  had  with  him  now  a  regiment  of  English  grenadiers 
and  a  few  line  regiments,  but  the  bulk  of  the  army  was 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  181 

composed  of  his  Dutch  troops  and  foreign  mercenaries; 
the  latter  had  shown  at  the  battle  of  the  Boyne  that  their 
courage  was  not  of  a  high  order,  while  their  excesses  had 
not  only  produced  a  bitter  feeling  of  hatred  against  them 
throughout  the  country,  but  had  done  immense  harm  to 
the  cause  by  rendering  it  next  to  impossible  to  obtain 
provisions. 

Walter's  progress  toward  recovery  from  the  day  when 
he  recovered  consciousness  was  very  rapid.  The  fever, 
though  severe,  had  been  short,  and  he  gained  strength 
almost  as  rapidly  as  he  had  lost  it.  The  morning  after 
he  had  come  to  himself,  Mrs.  Conyers  brought  Claire  in 
to  see  him. 

"Here  is  a  young  lady  who  is  very  anxious  to  see  how 
you  are  getting  on,  "Walter,"  she  said  cheerfully;  "and 
now  you  are  going  on  so  well  I  shall  hand  you  over  a 
good  deal  to  her  care,  as  some  of  the  others  want  my  at- 
tention badly.  You  must  not  talk  much,  you  know,  else 
we  shall  be  having  you  getting  feverish  again." 

So  saying  she  left  the  room. 

Claire  had  stopped  timidly  near  the  door.  The  change 
which  four  days  had  made  in  Walter's  appearance 
shocked  her,  and  she  scarcely  recognized  in  the  pale, 
drawn  face  the  youth  who  had  burst  in,  sword  in  hand, 
to  her  rescue  on  that  terrible  evening.  The  tears  were 
running  down  her  cheeks  as  she  approached  the  couch. 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter,  Claire?"  he  asked.  "You 
must  not  cry.  I  am  all  right  again  now,  and  in  a  week 
shall  be  on  horseback,  I  hope." 

"Oh,  Walter,  what  can  I  say!"  she  said.  "To  think 
that  you  should  have  suffered  so  for  us!" 

"There  is  nothing  dreadful  about  it,"  he  said,  smiling. 
"A  soldier  must  expect  to  get  wounded  sometimes,  and 
a  slash  from  a  German  sword  is  not  a  serious  matter.  I 
am  only  too  glad  that  I  got  it  in  your  cause,  Claire — only 


182  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

too  glad  that  I  was  able  to  be  of  service  to  you — and  your 
mother,"  he  added  as  an  afterthought.  "It  makes  me 
very  happy  to  think  I  have  been  useful  to  you,  only  I 
would  rather  that  you  didn't  say  anything  more  about  it. 
I  am  quite  content  and  happy  as  it  is,  and  if  it  had  been 
my  life  I  would  have  gladly  given  it." 

"I  won't  say  any  more  if  you  don't  wish  it,"  Claire 
said  quietly,  "but  I  shall  think  of  it  always;  and  now," 
she  said  with  an  effort,  mamma  said  you  were  not  to  talk 
much,  and  you  look  quite  flushed  already,  so  you  must 
lie  quiet,  and  I  will  read  to  you,  or  work,  if  you  like  that 
better." 

"I  don't  care  which  it  is,"  Walter  said,  "so  that  I  can 
look  at  you;"  and  this  time  Claire's  cheeks  were  a  good 
deal  redder  than  Walter's. 

Mrs.  Conyers  leturned  in  half  an  hour  and  found 
Claire  sitting  working,  while  Walter  lay  looking  at  her. 

"I  think,  Claire,  you  had  better  take  your  work  in 
the  next  room  again,"  she  said.  "Walter  looks  flushed, 
and  I  don't  think  your  visit  has  done  him  any  good. 
You  have  been  talking  too  much." 

"It  has  done  me  an  immense  deal  of  good,  Mrs.  Con- 
yers," Walter  protested;  while  Claire  exclaimed  that 
they  had  hardly  spoken  a  word,  which  indeed  was  the 
truth,  for  Walter  had  been  feeling  too  dreamily  happy  to 
ivant  to  talk,  and  Claire  had  felt  so  shy  and  embarrassed 
vith  Walter  watching  her  that  she  had  been  unable  to 
hit  on  a  single  subject  for  remark. 

Another  two  days  and  Walter  was  well  enough  to  get 
up  and  lie  on  a  couch  of  heather,  covered  with  the 
blanket,  which  Larry  had  prepared  for  him  in  the  next 
room.  His  voice  had  recovered  its  natural  ring,  and 
Claire  had  got  over  her  unaccustomed  shyness;  and  Mrs. 
Conyers,  as  she  moved  in  and  out,  heard  them  laughing 
and  chatting  together  as  they  had  done  ten  days  before 
at  the  hall. 


ORANGE  AND  GREE2T.  183 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE   FIKST    SIEGE    OF   LIMERICK. 

THE  three  heavy  guns  thundered  against  the  walls 
without  intermission  night  and  day  until  at  length  a 
breach  was  made.  The  garrison  in  vain  attempted  to 
repair  it,  and  every  hour  it  grew  larger,  until  there  was 
a  yawning  gap  twelve  yards  wide.  This  William  consid- 
ered sufficient  for  the  purpose,  and  made  his  prepara- 
tions for  the  assault.  The  English  regiment  of  grena- 
diers, six  hundred  strong,  was  ordered  to  take  its  place 
in  the  advanced  trenches,  and  to  lead  the  assault.  It 
was  supported  on  the  right  by  the  Dutch  Guards,  with 
gome  British  and  Brandenburg  regiments  in  reserve. 

On  the  left  the  grenadiers  were  supported  by  the 
Danish  regiments,  and  a  large  body  of  cavalry  were  held 
in  readiness  to  pour  in  behind  the  infantry.  The  storm- 
ing parties  were  under  command  of  Lieutenant-General 
Douglas.  At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  signal 
for  the  assault  was  given  by  a  discharge  of  three  pieces 
of  cannon.  As  the  last  gun  was  fired  the  grenadiers 
leaped  from  the  trenches  and  dashed  forward  toward  the 
breach. 

As  they  approached  the  wall  they  discharged  their 
muskets  at  the  enemy  upon  the  walls,  and  before  assault- 
ing the  breach  they  hurled  a  shower  of  hand-grenades  at 
its  defenders.  The  preparations  for  the  assault  had  been 
observed  by  the  Irish,  and  they  were  in  readiness  to 
receive  it.  The  news  had  spread  through  the  town,  and 


184  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

the  excitement  among  the  whole  population  was  intense. 
The  guns  on  the  walls  ceased  firing  in  order  that  all 
might  be  ready  to  pour  in  their  shower  of  balls  when  the 
assault  commenced.  The  fire  from  the  batteries  of  the 
besiegers  had  also  died  away,  and  a  silence  which  seemed 
strange  after  the  constant  din  of  the  preceding  days  hung 
over  the  camp  and  city. 

No  sooner  had  the  grenadiers  leaped  from  the  trenches 
than  the  guns  on  the  walls,  and  the  musketry  of  the  de- 
fenders, poured  their  fire  upon  them,  while  all  the  bat- 
teries of  the  besiegers  opened  at  the  same  moment  to 
cover  the  assault.  Through  the  hail  of  fire  the  grena- 
diers kept  on  without  faltering,  and  as  they  neared  the 
breach  the  Irish  rushed  out  through  the  opening  to  meet 
them.  There  was  a  desperate  struggle,  half-hidden  from 
the  eyes  of  those  on  the  walls  by  the  cloud  of  smoke  and 
dust  which  arose  from  the  combatants;  but  the  grena- 
diers, fighting  with  the  greatest  gallantry,  won  their  way 
to  the  counterscarp,  and  half  the  regiment  forced  its  way 
through  the  breach  and  entered  the  town;  but  the  Irish 
troops,  clustered  behind  the  wall,  then  closed  in  again, 
and  barred  the  breach  to  those  following. 

The  Dutch  and  English  regiments  were  marched  up  to 
aid  the  rest  of  the  grenadiers  to  cut  their  way  in  after 
their  comrades;  but  these  troops  were  unable  to  imitate 
the  valor  of  the  grenadiers.  They  got  as  far  as  the 
counterscarp;  but  the  fire  from  the  walls  was  so  deadly 
that  they  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  advance.  The 
rain  of  fire  mowed  them  down.  Their  officers  urged 
them  on,  and,  unwilling  to  retreat  and  incapable  of  ad- 
vancing, they  were  shot  down  in  scores. 

Presently  there  was  a  sudden  movement  among  the 
Irish  defenders  on  the  breach,  and  a  few  of  the  grena- 
diers who  had  entered  the  city  burst  their  way  through 
them,  and  rejoined  their  comrades.  No  sooner  had  they 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  186 

entered  the  city  than  they  found  themselves  assailed  on 
all  sides.  The  Irish  troops  and  the  citizens  attacked 
them  with  fury,  and  even  the  women,  animated  by  the 
deadly  hate  which  the  deeds  of  William's  soldiers  had 
excited,  hurled  missiles  upon  them  from  the  windows, 
and  even  joined  in  the  attacks  upon  them  in  the  streets. 

The  grenadiers  resisted  obstinately,  but  they  were 
gradually  overpowered  by  numbers,  until  at  last  a  few 
survivors  gathering  together,  burst  through  their  assail- 
ants, and  succeeded  in  making  their  retreat.  For  nearly 
three  hours  this  furious  conflict  had  raged  within  the 
city;  regiment  after  regiment  had  been  marched  up  to 
the  assault,  but  none  had  proved  brave  enough  to  fight 
their  way  up  the  counterscarp  to  the  aid  of  the  hard- 
pressed  grenadiers  in  the  town. 

When  the  little  remnant  of  the  grenadiers  rejoined 
them  they  continued  for  a  time  to  keep  up  a  constant 
fire  upon  the  defenders  on  the  walls,  but  at  last  slowly 
and  sullenly  fell  back  to  their  camp.  In  the  meantime  a 
regiment  of  Brandenburgers  had  attacked  the  wall  of  the 
battery  known  as  the  Black  Battery,  whose  fire  was  doing 
great  execution  upon  the  assailants.  They  had  brought 
scaling-ladders  with  them,  and  with  these  they  succeeded, 
fighting  with  great  bravery  and  determination,  in  gam- 
ing the  walls. 

The  whole  regiment  poured  in;  but  just  as  they  did  so 
the  Irish  fired  the  powder  magazine  that  supplied  the 
battery,  and  the  whole  battalion  was  destroyed. 
;  William,  from  his  position  on  a  fort  known  as  Crom- 
well's Fort,  watched  the  struggle.  Had  he  acted  as 
Cromwell  did  at  the  siege  of  Drogheda,  when,  after  his 
troops  had  been  twice  repulsed  at  the  breach,  he  placed 
himself  at  their  head  and  led  them  to  the  assault,  the 
result  might  not  have  been  the  same,  for  the  regiments 
which  refused  to  follow  their  officers  up  the  counterscarp 


188  ORANGE  AND  GEEEN. 

might  have  followed  the  king;  but  William,  although  he 
had  often  proved  the  possession  of  no  ordinary  courage 
and  coolness  in  danger,  had  not  that  species  of  courage 
which  prompts  a  man  to  throw  himself  forward  to  lead  a 
forlorn  hope.  Moreover,  both  as  a  general-in-chief  and 
king,  his  place  was  not  at  the  head  of  an  assault. 

The  assailants  lost  more  than  two  thousand  men,  and 
these  the  flower  of  William's  army.  The  surprise  of  the 
troops  at  their  defeat  by  an  enemy  they  had  been  taught 
to  despise  was  extreme,  and  BO  ashamed  were  they  of 
their  failure  that  the  following  day  they  were  ready  to 
renew  the  assault.  The  king,  however,  would  not  risk 
another  such  defeat.  The  bravest  of  his  force  had  per- 
ished, his  stores  of  ammunition  were  nearly  exhausted, 
and  the  rains  had  set  in  with  great  violence. 

On  the  day  following  the  assault  the  king  called  a 
council  of  war,  and  it  was  resolved  to  raise  the  siege. 
There  was  a  great  scarcity  of  wagons  and  horses  in  con- 
sequence of  the  loss  sustained  by  Sarsfield's  attack  on  the 
train.  The  few  wagons  which  remained  were  not  enough 
to  convey  the  wounded  men,  many  of  whom  were  obliged 
to  walk.  The  stores  had  therefore  to  be  abandoned  for 
want  of  transport.  Some  were  thrown  into  the  river, 
others  blown  up  and  destroyed,  and  on  Saturday,  the  30th 
of  August,  the  army  commenced  its  retreat. 

It  was  accompanied  by  a  great  host  of  fugitives,  for 
with  the  army  went  the  whole  of  the  Protestant  inhab- 
itants of  the  county  of  Limerick  and  the  surrounding 
country,  with  their  wives,  children,  servants,  and  such 
household,  goods  as  they  could  bring  with  them.  In 
addition  to  these  were  the  Protestant  fugitives  from  the 
neighborhood  of  Athlone,  who  had  come  down  with  the 
division  of  General  Douglas  after  he  had  raised  the  siege 
of  that  city. 

The  Protestants  round  Limerick  had  not  doubted  the 


ORANGE  AND  GREEK  187 

success  of  the  besiegers,  never  questioning  the  ability  of 
an  army  commanded  by  a  king  to  capture  a  place  like 
Limerick.  The  misery  of  this  body  of  fugitives  was  ter- 
rible. They  had  abandoned  their  homes  to  pillage  and 
destruction,  and  knew  not  whether  they  should  ever  be 
able  to  return  to  them  again.  They  had,  on  the  arrival 
of  William,  torn  up  the  letters  of  protection  which  the 
Irish  generals  had  given  to  all  who  applied  to  them,  and 
having  thrown  in  their  fortunes  with  him,  dared  not  re- 
main among  the  country  people  who  had  suffered  so  ter- 
ribly from  the  exactions  and  brutality 'of  William's  army. 
Not  only  had  they  to  endure  wet,  hunger,  and  fatigue  in 
the  retreat,  but  they  were  robbed  and  plundered  by  the 
army  which  should  have  protected  them,  as  if  they  had 
been  enemies  instead  of  friends. 

William  himself  left  his  army  as  soon  as  he  broke  up 
the  siege,  and  pushed  straight  on  to  Waterford,  and  the 
troops,  relieved  from  the  only  authority  they  feared,  and 
rendered  furious  by  the  ill  success  which  had  attended 
their  operations,  broke  out  into  acts  of  plunder  and  insub- 
ordination which  surpassed  anything  that  they  had  before 
perpetrated.  The  siege  of  Limerick  brought  the  cam- 
paign to  a  close,  and  so  far  the  Irish  had  no  reason  to  be 
disheartened.  They  had  besieged  and  nearly  annihilated 
the  army  of  Schomberg  at  Dundalk;  they  had  fought  a 
sturdy  battle  on  the  Boyne,  and  had  proved  themselves  a 
match  for  William's  best  troops;  they  had  decisively  re- 
pulsed the  attacks  upon  Athlone  and  Limerick;  half  the 
troops  William  had  sent  to  conquer  the  country  had 
fallen,  while  their  own  losses  had  been  comparatively 
small. 

The  sole  fruit  of  all  the  efforts  of  William  had  been 
the  occupation  of  the  capital — a  great  advantage,  as  it 
gave  him  a  point  at  which  he  could  pour  fresh  troops 
into  Ireland  and  recommence  the  war  in  the  spring  with 


188  ORANGE  AND  QREEN. 

new  chanees  of  success.  When  the  British  army  reached 
Callan  some  of  the  arrears  of  pay  were  distributed  among 
the  troops,  and  the  army  was  then  broken  up  and  the 
troops  went  into  winter  quarters. 

William  had  returned  at  once  to  England,  and  sent 
over  some  new  lords-justices  to  Dublin.  These  were  re- 
ceived with  delight  by  the  townspeople,  who  had  suffered 
terribly  from  the  exactions  and  depredations  of  the  for- 
eign troops  quartered  there,  and  were,  indeed,  almost  in 
a  state  of  starvation,  for  the  country  people  were  afraid 
to  bring  in  provisions  for  sale,  as  they  were  either  plun- 
dered of  the  goods  as  they  approached  the  city,  or  robbed 
of  their  money  as  they  returned  after  disposing  of  them. 
As  the  only  possible  check  to  these  disorders,  the  jus- 
tices raised  a  body  of  militia  in  the  town  to  cope  with  the 
soldiery,  and  the  result  was  a  series  of  frays  which  kept 
the  city  in  a  state  of  alarm. 

By  the  time  that  Limerick  beat  off  the  assault  upon  its 
breach,  Walter  Davenant  was  quite  convalescent. 
Rumora  of  the  ill-treatment  of  the  Protestants  who  ac- 
companied the  retreating  army  circulated  in  Limerick, 
and  Mrs.  Conyers  congratulated  herself  warmly  that  she 
and  her  daughter  were  safe  under  the  protection  of  the 
Irish  troops,  instead  of  being  in  the  sad  column  of  fugi- 
tives. 

As  soon  as  the  English  army  had  left,  Captain  Daven- 
ant obtained  for  her  an  order  of  protection  from  General 
Sarsfield,  and  she  returned  for  awhile  with  her  daughter 
to  their  house,  to  which  the  invalids  were  carried,  Cap- 
tain Davenant's  troops  being  again  quartered  around  it. 

"I  hardly  know  what  is  best  to  do,"  she  said  to  Cap- 
tain Davenant  a  few  days  after  her  return.  "I  am  of 
course  anxious  to  rejoin  my  husband,  but  at  the  same 
time  I  feel  that  my  staying  here  is  of  benefit  to  him. 
With  the  order  of  protection  I  have  received  I  am  per- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  189 

fectly  safe  here,  and  I  have  no  fear  whatever  of  any 
trouble  either  with  the  troops  or  peasantry;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  if  we  abandon  this  place  I  fear  that  it  will  be 
pillaged,  and  perhaps  burned  like  the  other  houses  be- 
longing to  Protestants  which  have  been  deserted  by  their 
owners.  What  do  you  say,  Captain  Davenant?" 

"I  should  be  sorry  to  give  any  advice,  Mrs.  Oonyers. 
For  the  troops  I  can  answer;  the  protection  you  have  re- 
ceived from  General  Sarsfield  will  be  sufficient  to  insure 
you  against  any  trouble  whatever  from  them,  but  as  to 
the  peasantry  I  cannot  say.  Every  village  within  reach 
of  William's  army,  in  its  advance  or  retreat,  has  been  de- 
stroyed, and  the  vilest  atrocities  have  been  committed 
upon  the  people.  The  greater  part  of  the  men  have,  in 
despair,  taken  up  arms,  and,  when  they  get  the  chance, 
will  avenge  their  wrongs  upon  inoffensive  Protestants 
who  have  ventured  to  remain  in  their  dwellings.  Sav- 
agery has  begot  savagery,  and  even  such  a  protection 
order  as  you  have  received  would  go  for  little  with  these 
half-maddened  wretches.  I  should  say,  therefore,  that 
so  long  as  there  are  a  considerable  body  of  troops  at 
Limerick,  so  long  you  may  safely  remain  here,  but  no 
longer." 

"At  any  rate  I  will  stay  for  a  time,"  Mrs.  Conyers 
said.  "The  winter  may  bring  peace;  and  I  am  very 
loath  to  abandon  the  house,  to  which  my  husband  is 
greatly  attached,  if  it  is  possible  to  save  it." 

The  party  now  fell  back  to  the  mode  of  life  which  had 
been  interrupted  by  the  advance  of  William's  army. 
Captain  Davenant  drilled  his  men  and  spent  his  evenings 
pleasantly  in  the  house.  Walter  had  so  far  recovered 
that  he  was  able  to  stroll  through  the  grounds  or  drive 
with  Claire.  The  troopers  enjoyed  their  rest  and  abun- 
dance of  rations.  Captain  Davenant's  mind  had  been  set 
at  ease  by  the  receipt  of  a  letter  which  Mrs.  Davenant 


190  OEANOE  AND  GREEN. 

had  sent  him  by  one  of  the  men  of  the  village.  It  told 
him  that  she  had  seen  Mr.  Conyers,  who  had  obtained  a 
stay  of  all  proceedings  against  the  property,  and  that  she 
was  well  and  in  as  good  spirits  as  she  could  be  in  his 
absence. 

A  month  after  they  had  moved  across  the  river  their 
qniet  life  was  interrupted  by  a  trooper  riding  up  just  as 
the  party  was  sitting  down  to  dinner,  with  an  order  from 
General  Sarsfield  for  the  troops  to  be  in  readiness  to 
march  at  daybreak  to  form  part  of  a  force  which  waa 
about  to  undertake  an  enterprise  against  the  English 
stationed  at  Birr.  There  was  silence  at  the  table  after 
Captain  Davenant  had  read  the  order. 

"Then  you  must  leave  us?"  Mrs.  Conyers  said  at  last. 

"I  am  afraid  so,  Mrs.  Conyers.  Yes,  sorry  as  I  am 
that  our  pleasant  time  here  must  come  to  an  end.  There 
is  no  questioning  the  order;  I  have  been,  in  fact,  expect- 
ing it  for  the  last  day  or  two." 

"Then  I  shall  move,"  Mrs.  Conyers  said  decidedly. 
"It  will  take  us  a  day  or  two  to  pack  up  such  valuables 
as  I  should  like  to  take  away  and  leave  at  Limerick  till 
the  return  of  happier  days.  When  that  is  accomplished 
I  shall  carry  out  my  intention  of  making  for  Galway,  and 
leave  the  house  to  take  care  of  itself." 

"In  the  meantime,  madam,"  Captain  Davenant  said, 
"I  will  leave  my  son  and  four  of  the  men,  who  are  now 
convalescent,  as  a  protection.  I  fancy  they  are  all  fit  to 
take  the  saddle,  but  I  can  strain  a  point  a  little  and  leave 
them  still  on  the  sick  list." 

"Thank  you  very  much  indeed,"  Mrs.  Conyers  said, 
while  a  glance  of  satisfaction  passed  between  Walter  and 
Claire.  "That  will  be  a  satisfaction;  indeed  I  shall  feel 
quite  safe  so  long  as  your  son  is  here.  I  wish  now  I  had 
moved  the  things  before;  but  I  had  hoped  that  you 
would  have  been  allowed  to  remain  in  quarters  here  all 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  191 

the  winter.  Had  it  not  been  for  that  I  should  never 
have  decided  as  I  did." 

The  next  morning  the  troop  started. 

"The  place  seems  strangely  quiet,"  Walter  said  as  he 
Btrolled  out  into  the  garden  with  Claire  after  breakfast. 
"It  seems  terrible  to  think  that  in  three  or  four  days  it 
will  be  deserted  altogether,  and  that  you  will  have  gone." 

"It  is  horrid,"  the  girl  said,  with  tears  gathering  in 
her  eyes.  "I  hate  King  William  and  King  James  both," 
ehe  went  on  petulantly.  "Why  can't  they  fight  their 
quarrel  out  alone,  instead  of  troubling  every  one  else?  I 
don't  know  which  of  them  I  hate  the  most." 

"There  is  a  compensation,"  Walter  said  with  a  smile. 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  see  any  compensation,"  the  girl 
eaid.  "What  do  you  mean,  Walter?" 

"I  mean,"  Walter  said,  "that  if  they  had  not  quar- 
reled we  might  never  have  met." 

"There  is  something  in  that,"  Claire  said  softly.  "No; 
I  don't  know  that  I  ought  quite  to  hate  them  after  all." 

By  which  it  will  be  seen  that  Walter  Davenant  and 
Claire  Conyers  had  already  arrived  at  a  thorough  under- 
standing as  to  their  feelings  toward  each  other.  After 
this,  as  was  natural  between  young  persons  so  situated, 
their  talk  wandered  away  into  the  future,  and  the  present 
was  already  forgotten. 

In  the  house  every  one  was  at  work.  Mrs.  Conyers' 
servants  had  all  returned  when  she  came  back  to  the 
house,  and  these  were  now  busy,  with  the  assistance  of 
Larry  and  the  four  troopers  left  behind,  in  taking  down 
and  packing  pictures,  taking  up  carpets,  and  getting 
furniture  ready  for  removal.  In  the  afternoon  Walter 
assisted  in  the  work  of  packing.  As  he  was  dressing  for 
dinner,  Larry,  as  usual,  came  into  his  room. 

"I  suppose,  your  honor,"  he  said,  after  putting  out 
Walter's  clothes,  "you  will  be  setting  a  watch  to-night?" 


193  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"Yes,  Larry,  I  was  intending  to  do  so.  You  don't 
think  there  is  any  special  occasion  for  it,  do  you?" 

"I  don't  know,  your  honor.  We  hear  tales  of  the 
Eapparees  burning  every  Protestant  house  in  the  district. 
As  long  as  the  troop  was  here,  av  coorse  the  boys  kept 
away;  but  there  is  a  powerful  lot  of  plunder  in  the  house, 
and  the  news  that  the  troop  have  gone  will  go  through 
the  country  quick  enough.  The  boys  have  had  enough 
to  turn  them  into  devils  with  what  they  have  gone 
through,  and  small  blame  to  them  if  they  take  their 
chances  when  they  find  them.  We  know,  yer  honor, 
that  Mrs.  Conyers  and  Miss  Claire  are  well-nigh  angels, 
and  there  is  small  fear  that  the  people  around  will  lift  a 
finger  agin  them,  in  spite  of  having  had  their  own  homes 
burnt  over  their  heads;  but  folks  from  a  distance  don't 
know  that,  and  the  news  that  there  is  a  rich  Protestant 
house  all  ready  for  sacking  will  travel  quick.  I  hope 
your  honor  will  get  the  ladies  to  move  out  of  the  place 
to-morrow,  whether  the  ould  pictures  and  things  are  all 
ready  or  not." 

"Do  you  think  it  is  as  serious  as  that,  Larry?" 

"Faith  and  I  do,  yer  honor.  You  don't  know  how 
bitter  the  folks  are!" 

"But  there  cannot  be  any  danger,  Larry,  as  long  as  we 
are  here.  The  Kapparees  would  never  attack  a  house 
which  has  the  general's  protection,  and  with  an  officer 
and  some  troopers  of  the  king  to  guard  it." 

"It's  meself  would  not  answer  for  them,"  Larry  said, 
shaking  his  head.  "The  boys  are  just  disperate,  and 
would  care  nothing  for  the  protection  unless  there  were 
force  to  back  it.  They  think  that,  as  all  the  Catholics 
have  been  robbed  by  the  Protestants,  it's  only  fair  that 
they  should  get  their  turn  now;  and  if  I  were  your  honor 
I  would  lay  all  my  plans  out  to-night,  how  to  get  away 
and  the  rest  of  it,  just  as  if  you  were  assured  they  would 
come  before  the  morning." 


ORANGE  AND  GREEJT.  193 

"Why,  you  have  heard  nothing  certain,  Larry?" 

"I  have  not,  or  I  would  tell  your  honor  at  once;  but  I 
know  what  the  people  think  and  feel,  and  I  know  that 
the  Eapparees  have  been  plundering  and  destroying 
every  Protestant  house  around,  and  they  will  guess  that 
the  ladies  will  be  moving  now  that  the  troop  is  gone. 
Besides,  won't  they  have  heard  that  the  news  has  gone 
round  for  wagons  to  come  to  take  away  the  things?" 

The  earnestness  with  which  Larry  spoke  convinced 
Walter  that  the  danger  was  serious.  Larry  was  not  given 
to  magnify  danger,  and  usually  treated  all  risks  with 
carelessness  and  indifference.  Walter  knew  that  he 
would  gather  from  the  stablemen  and  the  people  who 
brought  in  provisions  much  more  as  to  the  state  of  pop- 
ular feeling  in  the  country  than  he  was  likely  to  know, 
and  he  accordingly  went  down  to  dinner  grave  and  pre- 
occupied. 

Mrs.  Conyers  soon  noticed  the  change  in  his  manner, 
and  as  soon  as  the  servants  had  retired  asked  him  if  he 
had  received  any  bad  news. 

"No,"  he  said,  trying  to  speak  lightly.  "My  boy 
Larry  has  been  trying  to  scare  me  about  the  Rapparees, 
and  although  I  do  not  think  that  there  is  any  danger  to 
be  apprehended  from  them,  I  do  think  that  it  would  be 
just  as  well  to  hurry  on  your  preparations  as  much  as 
possible,  and  for  you  and  Claire  to  go  in  to  Limerick  to- 
morrow afternoon.  We  can  finish  the  packing  up  of  the 
goods  you  wish  to  take,  and  any  we  cannot  get  off  to- 
morrow can  be  sent  in  the  next  day." 

Mrs.  Conyers  looked  grave. 

"But  we  have  heard  of  no  Eapparees  in  this  neighbor- 
hood, Walter,"  she  said.  "We  have  heard  of  sad  ex- 
cesses in  some  parts  of  the  country,  but  nothing  in  this 
neighborhood." 

"There  has  been   small  temptation  for  them   about 


194  ORANGE  AND  QUEEN. 

here/*  Walter  said,  "for  every  house  within  miles  wag 
stripped  by  the  Williamites.  Catholic  or  Protestant  was 
all  the  same  to  them.  Besides,  they  knew  well  that 
Sarsfield's  horse  would  soon  have  put  a  stop  to  that  sort 
of  thing.  Now,  I  do  not  wish  to  alarm  you  in  the  slight- 
est, and  I  do  not  think  that  there  is  any  real  cause  for 
anxiety.  Even  if  they  are  in  the  neighborhood  the  Kap- 
parees  will  hardly  venture  an  attack  upon  a  house  oc- 
cupied by  even  a  few  of  our  troops.  Still  it  is  always 
wisest  to  be  prepared,  and  therefore  I  should  like  for  us 
to  arrange  exactly  what  had  best  be  done  in  the  event  of 
an  attack.  Of  course  I  shall  see  that  all  the  doors  and 
the  lower  windows  are  securely  fastened,  and  I  shall  have 
the  men  from  the  stables  into  the  house,  so  we  shall  be 
nine  or  ten  men  in  all,  enough,  I  hope,  for  all  circum- 
stances. Still,  merely  as  a  matter  of  discussion,  let  us 
suppose  the  worst.  Let  us  imagine  the  house  sur- 
rounded, the  doors  burst  in,  and  the  resistance  on  the 
point  of  being  overpowered.  What  would  be  our  best 
plan  for  making  our  escape?  Do  not  be  frightened, 
Claire,"  he  went  on,  seeing  how  pale  the  girl  had  be- 
come. "Every  general,  when  he  is  going  to  fight  a 
battle,  however  sure  he  may  be  of  success,  decides  upon 
the  route  by  which  his  army  shall  retreat  in  case  of  a 
defeat,  and  I  am  only  taking  the  same  precaution." 

"If  there  is  to  be  a  retreat  made  at  all,"  Mrs.  Conyera 
said,  "I  prefer  that  it  should  be  made  now.  Do  you 
really  think  that  there  is  any  real  danger  of  attack?" 

"I  think  that  there  is  danger  of  attack,  Mrs.  Conyers; 
but  I  have  no  reason  for  supposing  that  there  is  any  par- 
ticular danger  this  night." 

"Then  Claire  and  I  will  at  once  start  for  the  town 
under  the  escort  of  two  of  your  men.  It  would  be  folly 
indeed  to  run  the  risk  of  another  attack  here.  If  the 
house  is  to  be  burned  it  must  be  burned.  For  if  they 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  195 

were  beaten  off  once  they  would  come  again  when  the 
house  was  undefended.  As  for  the  things,  should  all  be 
quiet  to-night  they  can  be  sent  in  to-morrow  as  arranged. 
The  things  that  are  to  go  are  all  got  together." 

"I  do  think  that  the  best  way,"  Walter  said.  "Of 
course,  I  shall  ride  in  with  you  and  hand  you  over  to  the 
friends  you  are  going  to  in  the  town,  and  shall  then  come 
back  here  again  with  a  light  heart.  But  I  own  that  I  am 
nervous  at  the  thought  of  you  and  Claire  being  here 
should  the  Rapparees  attack  the  house." 

"But  mind,  Walter,  there  is  to  be  no  fighting.  If 
they  come  to-night  I  had  rather  that  they  took  every- 
thing than  that  you  should  risk  your  life  in  its  defense. 
The  silver  and  valuables  we  took  across  before  are  all 
safe  in  Limerick.  As  for  the  other  things,  they  can  go. 
Now,  mind,  we  shall  not  leave  unless  we  have  your 
promise  that  if  a  band  of  these  men  come  to-night  to 
sack  the  place,  you  and  your  men  will  offer  no  resistance." 

"If  they  come  in  numbers  which  render  successful  re- 
sistance out  of  the  question,  I  promise  you  that  we  will 
not  draw  a  trigger,  Mrs.  Conyers." 

"In  that  case  I  am  satisfied,  Walter.  Against  you  and 
your  men  these  peasants  have  no  quarrel." 

Walter  at  once  called  Larry. 

"Larry,  get  my  horse  saddled,  and  tell  Browning  to 
saddle  his.  Place  two  pillions  behind  the  saddles.  Mrs. 
Conyers  and  her  daughter  are  going  to  ride  into  Lim- 
erick at  once." 

"The  Lord  be  praised!"  Larry  said  piously.  "That's 
the  best  news  I  have  heard  this  many  a  day." 

"And,  Larry,"  Mrs.  Conyers  said,  "tell  the  three  boys 
in  the  stable  to  saddle  the  three  best  horses  and  ride  with 
us.  If  we  lose  everything  else  we  may  as  well  retain 
them,  for  it  would  not  be  easy  to  buy  others  now." 

In  ten  minutes  all  was  ready  for  a  start.     Walter  and 


196  ORANGE  AND  GREBN. 

the  trooper  took  their  places  in  the  saddles,  chairs  were 
brought  out,  and  Mrs.  Conyers  and  Claire  mounted  be- 
hind them.  Walter  had  asked  Mrs.  Conyers  to  take  her 
seat  on  the  pillion  on  his  horse,  but  she  did  not  answer, 
and  when  Walter  turned  to  see  that  she  was  comfortably 
placed  behind  him,  he  found  that  it  was  Claire  who  was 
seated  there. 

"Mamma  told  me  to/'  the  girl  said.  "I  suppose  she 
thought  this  was  perhaps  the  last  ride  we  should  take  to- 
gether." 

"For  the  present,  Claire — you  should  say  for  the  pres- 
ent. I  hope  it  will  not  be  long  before  we  are  together 
again.  And  for  good,"  he  added  in  a  low  voice. 

Mrs.  Conyers  made  no  comment,  when  they  dis- 
mounted and  entered  the  house  of  a  friend  at  Limerick, 
upon  Claire's  swollen  eyes  and  flushed  cheeks,  but  said 
"good-by"  lightly  to  Walter>  thanked  him  for  his  escort, 
and  said  that  she  hoped  to  see  him  with  her  household 
goods  on  the  following  afternoon.  On  leaving  them 
Walter  went  straight  to  the  house  where  an  officer  of  his 
acquaintance  was  quartered. 

"Hullo,  Davenant!  I  didn't  expect  to  see  you  here  at 
this  time  of  the  evening.  I  heard  you  were  still  laid  up 
with  your  wound." 

"That  is  an  old  affair  now,"  Walter  said.  "I  am  not 
quite  strong  again,  but  there  is  little  the  matter  now.  I 
have  come  in  to  ask  you  if  you  will  let  me  have  twenty- 
five  of  your  men.  I  have  strong  reason  to  believe  that  it 
is  likely  one  of  the  bands  of  Eapparees  will  make  an  at- 
tack on  Mrs.  Conyers'  house  to-night.  The  tenants  have 
been  asked  to  send  in  their  wagons  to-morrow  to  remove 
some  of  the  furniture  in  here,  and  I  think  it  probable 
they  will  try  to  take  what  they  fancy  before  it  starts.  I 
have  brought  Mrs.  Conyers  and  her  daughter  into  the 
town,  but  as  I  have  only  four  men  I  cannot  defend  the 


ORANGE  AND  GREEK.  197 

house  if  it  is  attacked  in  any  force.  I  wish  you  would 
let  me  have  twenty-five  men  and  a  sergeant  just  for  to- 
night. I  will  march  them  in  with  the  baggage  in  the 
afternoon. " 

"Certainly  I  will/'  Captain  Donovan  said.  "I  need 
not  disturb  the  colonel  at  this  time  of  the  evening,  but 
will  take  it  on  myself.  There  are  just  that  number  quar- 
tered in  the  storehouse  close  to  the  gate.  I  will  go  down 
with  you  at  once  and  turn  them  out  and  give  them 
orders.  It  will  be  a  good  thing  for  the  Rapparees  to 
have  a  lesson.  They  bring  disgrace  upon  our  cause  by 
their  doings." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  men,  who  had  not  retired  to  bed, 
were  turned  out. 

"You  have  got  a  four-mile  march  before  you,  boys," 
Walter  said  when  they  were  drawn  up;  "but  there  will 
be  a  pint  of  good  wine  and  some  supper  for  you  when  you 
get  there.  So  step  out  as  briskly  as  you  can." 

After  a  cordial  good-night  to  Captain  Donovan,  Walter 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  infantry,  and  in  little 
over  an  hour  arrived  at  the  house.  He  knocked  loudly 
at  the  door.  A  minute  later  Larry  put  his  head  out  of 
the  window  above. 

"Who  is  there?  What  do  you  want  knocking  at  a 
peaceful  house  at  this  time  of  night?  You  had  best  go 
away,  boys,  for  the  house  is  chock-full  of  soldiers.  We 
are  only  waiting  for  orders  to  blow  you  to  smithereens." 

Walter  burst  into  a  laugh. 

"Very  well  done,  Larry.  It  is  I,  with  some  soldiers. 
So  you  needn't  give  orders  to  the  men  to  fire." 

Larry  gave  a  cry  of  satisfaction  and  ran  down  to  open 
the  door. 

"It's  glad  I  am  to  see  you,  Master  Walter,  entirely.  I 
have  been  listening  ever  since  you  went,  and  when  I 
heard  the  tramp  of  feet  I  made  sure  it  was  the  boys." 


198  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"But  I  gave  orders  that  there  was  to  be  no  resistance, 
Larry." 

"And  I  wasn't  going  to  resist,  your  honor;  but  I 
thought  I  might  just  frighten  them  away/' 

"Now,  Larry,  get  up  a  pint  of  wine  for  each  of  these 
good  fellows,  and  what  victuals  you  can  find  in  the 
house.  We  need  have  no  fear  of  an  attack  to-night." 

When  the  soldiers  had  finished  their  supper  they  lay 
down  in  the  hall. 

Walter  placed  a  sentry  at  a  window  at  each  side  of  the 
house,  and  he  then  lay  down  on  a  sofa,  for  the  ride  to 
Limerick  and  back  had  greatly  fatigued  him,  much  to 
his  surprise,  for  he  had  no  idea  how  far  his  strength  had 
been  pulled  down.  He  was  aroused  just  as  day  was 
breaking  by  a  loud  knocking  at  the  door,  and  at  the  same 
moment  a  shot  was  fired  from  a  window  above.  The 
soldiers  had  started  to  their  feet  and  seized  their  arms  as 
he  ran  out  and  bade  them  follow  him  upstairs.  He 
threw  up  a  window. 

"Who  are  you?  and  what  do  you  want?" 

"Never  mind  who  we  are,"  a  voice  replied.  "We 
want  the  door  opened,  and  you  had  best  do  it  quick." 

"Look  here,  my  man,"  Walter  said  in  a  loud,  steady 
voice,  "there  are  thirty  soldiers  in  this  house,  and  if  I 
give  the  word  you  will  get  such  a  volley  among  you  that 
half  of  you  will  never  go  home  to  tell  about  it,  so  I  warn 
you  to  depart  quietly." 

"It's  a  lie,"  the  man  said.  "If  you  are  the  officer  you 
liave  got  only  four  men,  and  you  know  it.  We  want  to 
do  you  no  harm,  and  we  don't  want  to  harm  the  ladies; 
"but  what's  in  the  house  is  ours — that's  the  law  of  Will- 
lam's  troops,  and  we  mean  to  act  up  to  it." 

A  chorus  of  approbation  rose  from  a  throng  of  peas- 
ants gathered  round  the  door.  A  few  of  them  carried 
muskets,  but  the  greater  part  were  armed  with  rude 
pikes. 


ORAN&E  AND  GREEK.  199 

"Show  yourselves  at  the  windows,  boys/'  Walter  said 
to  his  men.  "Level  your  muskets,  but  don't  fire  until  I 
give  the  word." 

It  was  light  enough  for  those  without  to  make  out  the 
threatening  figures  which  showed  themselves  at  every 
window,  and  with  a  cry  of  alarm  they  ran  back  among 
the  shrubs  for  shelter. 

"Now  you  see,"  Walter  said,  "that  I  have  spoken  the 
truth.  I  have  thirty  soldiers  here,  and  you  know  as  well 
as  I  do  what  will  come  of  it  if  you  attempt  to  break  into 
this  house.  For  shame,  men!  Your  deeds  bring  dis- 
grace on  the  king's  cause  and  on  our  religion.  It  is  not 
because  the  scum  who  march  with  the  Dutchman  behave 
like  brutal  savages  that  we  should  do  the  same.  There's 
plenty  of  work  for  you  in  fighting  against  the  enemies  of 
your  country  instead  of  fiightening  women  and  pillaging 
houses.  Return  to  your  homes,  or  better  still,  go  and 
join  the  king's  army  and  fight  like  men  for  your  homes 
and  your  religion. 

He  listened,  but  there  was  no  answer.  The  Rappareea 
knew  they  had  no  chance  of  breaking  into  the  house  so 
defended,  and  when  Walter  ceased  each  man  slunk  away 
in  the  darkness. 

The  next  morning  a  number  of  wagons  arrived,  and 
Walter,  with  the  aid  of  the  soldiers,  had  the  satisfaction 
of  loading  them  with  everything  of  any  value  in  the 
house,  and  of  escorting  them  without  interruption  to 
Limerick.  Mrs.  Conyers  was  filled  with  gratitude  when 
she  heard  the  events  of  the  night  and  how  narrowly  she 
and  her  daughter  had  escaped  another  attack.  One  of 
the  principal  tenants  had  come  in  with  his  wagon  and  he 
agreed  to  move  into  the  house  with  his  wife  and  family 
until  she  should  return.  Seeing  that  now  everything 
worth  taking  had  been  removed  he  thought  there  was 
little  chance  of  any  attempt  to  destroy  the  house. 


200  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

WINTER    QUARTERS. 

Two  or  there  days  later  Captain  Davenant  returned  to 
Limerick  with  his  troop.  He  had  stopped  at  the  house 
on  his  way  and  learned  there  of  the  move  which  had  been 
made. 

"Well,  Walter,  so  you  nearly  had  to  defend  Mrs.  Con- 
yers  against  odds  again,"  he  said,  as  Walter  joined  him 
in  the  market-place,  where  the  troop  was  dismounting. 
"I  have  come  here  for  a  day  only,  for  we  are  on  our  way 
south.  It  is  thought  likely  that  the  enemy's  next  move 
may  be  against  Cork,  so  some  of  us  are  detached  in  that 
direction.  To  my  mind,"  he  went  on  after  he  had  seen 
the  troop  quartered  in  some  houses  which  formerly  be- 
longed to  the  Protestants,  but  were  now  used  as  barracks 
— "in  my  opinion  we  are  wasting  precious  time.  We 
ought  not  to  allow  the  enemy  to  go  into  winter  quarters. 
Our  best  season  is  just  coming  on.  We  can  stand  the 
wet  far  better  than  they  can,  and  we  ought  not  to  give 
them  a  moment's  rest,  but  should  keep  our  army  to- 
gether and  beat  up  one  garrison  after  another;  threaten 
the  strongest  places;  compel  them  to  keep  constantly  on 
the  move;  and,  before  the  spring,  completely  wear  out 
and  exhaust  those  whom  we  cannot  conquer.  If  England 
found  that  she  had  the  whole  work  to  begin  over  again 
she  would  think  twice  before  she  went  further. 

"These  petty  German  princes  would  not  find  their 
men  so  ready  to  embark  in  a  quarrel  with  which  they  hav» 


ORANGE  AND  GREEK  $01 

no  concern  when  they  learned  that  all  who  had  done  so 
had  laid  their  bones  in  the  swamps  of  Ireland,  and  with- 
out his  mercenaries  William  would  find  it  hard  to  gather 
an  army,  for  the  English  themselves  have  no  heart  what- 
ever in  the  war.  If  we  remain  inactive  all  the  winter 
and  enable  them  to  retain  their  foothold  everywhere, 
fresh  reinforcements  will  arrive  in  the  spring,  and  so  bit 
by  bit  all  Ireland  will  be  won. 

"It  is  disheartening  in  the  extreme,  after  seeing  the 
enemy  retire  repulsed  and  utterly  disheartened  from 
Athlone  and  Limerick,  to  allow  them  unmolested  to  rest 
and  gather  strength  again.  If  we  could  but  get  rid  of 
the  French  there  would  be  some  hope  for  us.  They  have 
scarce  fired  a  shot  since  the  war  began,  and  yet  they  as- 
sume superiority  over  our  generals.  They  thwart  us  at 
every  turn;  they  not  only  refuse  to  combine  in  any 
action,  but  they  prevent  our  doing  so. 

"Since  the  Boyne  our  army  has  lain  inactive  and  has 
done  nothing,  although  they  might  have  done  every- 
thing. All  Ireland  was  open  to  them  on  the  day  when 
William,  with  all  his  forces,  sat  down  here  before  Lime- 
rick. Why,  they  could  have  marched  straight  for  Dub- 
lin and  captured  it  before  William  heard  that  they  had 
crossed  the  Shannon.  They  might  have  cut  off  his  sup- 
plies from  Waterford;  they  might  have  starved  him  out 
in  his  camp  here.  They  have  had  the  game  in  their 
hands,  and  they  have  allowed  it  to  slip  altogether  through 
their  fingers.  The  only  hope  I  have  now  is  that  before 
the  spring  the  French  will  go.  It  is  but  too  clear  that 
Louis  has  no  intention  whatever  of  helping  us  in  earnest. 
Had  he  chosen  he  could  any  time  during  the  last  six 
months  have  landed  an  army  here,  which  would  have 
decided  the  struggle.  Instead  of  that  he  has  sent  five 
thousand  men,  and  had  in  return  as  many  of  our  best 
soldiers;  and  the  officers  he  sent  seem  to  have  been 


ORANGE  AND  QREEN. 

furnished  with  secret  instructions  not  only  to  do  nothing 
themselves,  hut  to  prevent  us  from  doing  anything. " 

"Whom  would  you  like  to  see  in  command,  father?" 

"I  should  not  care  much,  Walter,  so  that  it  was  one 
man.  I  had  rather  have  any  soldier  you  might  take  at 
random  from  our  army,  so  that  he  possessed  a  fair  share 
of  common  sense,  than  the  chaos  which  now  prevails; 
but  of  course  the  man  whom  we  would  rather  have  is 
Sarsfield.  Whether  he  is  a  great  general  or  not  we  have 
no  means  of  knowing,  for  he  has  never  yet  had  the 
slightest  opportunity  of  showing  it;  but  I  do  not  think 
myself  that  he  has  made  the  most  of  what  chances  he 
has  had,  save  that  one  dash  against  the  artillery  convoy. 
He  has  done  nothing;  and  as  the  cavalry  are  under  his 
command,  and  he  could,  if  he  chose,  snap  his  fingers  at 
the  pretensions  of  the  French  and  act  independently,  I 
think  he  might  have  done  far  more  than  he  has  done. 
Still  he  is  our  most  prominent  leader,  and  he  possesses 
the  confidence  of  the  Irish  of  all  classes.  If  he  were  in 
supreme  command  there  would,  I  am  sure,  be  a  complete 
change  in  our  tactics.  Instead  of  waiting  everywhere  to 
be  attacked  we  should  take  the  offensive,  and  even  if  we 
were  unable  to  meet  William's  forces  in  pitched  battles, 
and  I  believe  that  we  are  perfectly  capable  of  doing  so» 
we  should  be  able  to  harass  and  exhaust  them  to  such  a 
point  that  William  would  be  only  too  glad  to  grant  us 
any  terms  we  might  demand  to  bring  the  war  to  an  end." 

After  having  dined,  Captain  Davenant  went  with 
Walter  to  call  upon  Mrs.  Conyers.  Hearing  that  he  was 
about  to  march  with  his  troop  to  Cork,  Mrs.  Conyers 
said: 

"Oh,  Captain  Davenant,  will  you  not  take  us  under 
your  protection  there?  I  am  afraid  of  traveling  with 
Claire  to  Galway  in  the  present  disturbed  state  of  the 
country,  and  I  should  find  it  easier  to  take  a  passage  to 
England  from  Cork  than  from  Galway." 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  303 

"You  certainly  would,  Mrs.  Conyers.  There  is  no 
formal  war  between  England  and  Ireland,  and  trading 
vessels  still  ply  between  Cork  and  Bristol.  I  agree  with 
you  that  ifc  would  not  be  safe  for  two  Protestant  ladies  to 
travel  without  protection  from  here  to  Galway,  and  I 
shall  be  only  too  glad  for  you  to  journey  with  us.  5Tour 
daughter,  I  know,  can  ride  any  of  the  country  ponies; 
and  for  yourself " 

"I  can  ride  too  if  there  is  an  occasion.  One  of  our 
horses  is  perfectly  quiet,  and  I  have  often  ridden  him  by 
the  side  of  Mr.  Conyers,  so  there  will  be  no  difficulty  on 
that  score." 

"In  that  case/'  Captain  Davenant  said,  "consider  the 
matter  arranged.  Will  you  be  ready  to  start  to-morrow 
early?" 

"Certainly,  Captain  Davenant;  I  have  no  preparations 
to  make.  All  our  furniture — which,  thanks  to  Walter, 
was  saved — has  been  stowed  away  in  the  cellars  of  a  ware- 
house here  and  is  safe  unless  William  returns  and  batters 
the  whole  town  to  pieces.  The  silver  and  other  valua- 
bles our  friends  here  will  take  care  of  till  better  times,  so 
we  have  only  to  pack  two  valises  and  mount.  The  serv- 
ants will  all  find  situations  here.  My  daughter's  maid, 
Bridget,  and  two  or  three  others  have  offered  to  accom- 
pany us  to  England,  but  we  have  decided  to  take  no  one. 
Directly  we  get  to  Bristol  I  shall  write  to  my  husband, 
who  has  given  me  an  address  both  in  London  and  Dub- 
lin, so  that  he  will  doubtless  join  us  in  a  very  short  time." 

The  party  started  the  next  morning  and  reached  Cork 
without  adventure,  as  there  were  no  English  troops  in 
that  part  of  the  country.  Three  days  after  their  arrival 
Mrs.  Conyers  took  a  passage  for  herself  and  Claire  in  a 
trader  about  to  sail  for  Bristol.  The  evening  before  they 
Bailed  Mrs.  Conyers  had  a  long  talk  with  Captain  Daven- 
ant,  while  the  two  young  people  had  slipped  off  for  a  last 
walk  together. 


204  GRANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"Of  course,  Captain  Davenant,"  she  began,  "you  have 
Been  as  well  as  I  have  how  things  stand  between  Claire 
and  Walter.  They  are  both  very  young,  but  the  strange 
circumstances  of  the  times  and  the  manner  in  which  they 
have  been  thrown  together  have  combined  to  render  their 
position  peculiar,  and  I  believe,  nay,  I  am  sure,  that  on 
both  sides  their  affection  is  deep  and  will  be  lasting." 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,  Mrs.  Conyers,  at  any  rate  as 
far  as  my  son  is  concerned.  Walter  has  never  spoken  to 
me  on  the  subject.  I  suppose  fathers  and  sons  are  less 
given  to  confidences  of  this  sort  than  mothers  and  daugh- 
ters. But  that  Walter  is  deeply  and  earnestly  attached 
to  your  daughter  is  unquestionable,  and  indeed  it  would 
be  singular  were  it  otherwise.  I  have  stood  passive  in 
the  matter,  simply  because  I  saw  that  you  took  no  steps 
to  keep  them  apart;  and  you  could  not  but  have  seen  at 
an  early  period  of  their  acquaintance  in  what  direction 
matters  were  tending." 

"Frankly,"  Mrs.  Conyers  said,  "I  gave  the  matter  no 
thought  during  your  first  stay  with  us.  I  had  regarded 
Claire  as  a  child,  and  it  did  not  at  first  occur  to  me  that 
there  could  be  any  danger  of  her  falling  seriously  in  love 
for  years  to  come.  When  my  eyes  were  opened  to  the 
true  state  of  things,  and  I  found  my  little  girl  had  lost 
her  heart,  I  could  have  wished  it  otherwise.  I  do  not 
mean  as  to  worldly  matters,"  she  went  on  hastily,  seeing 
that  Captain  Davenant  was  about  to  speak.  "That 
weighed  absolutely  nothing  with  me;  indeed,  they  may 
be  considered  to  be  well  matched  in  that  respect.  If  the 
war  is  decided  in  favor  of  King  William,  Claire  will  be  a 
rich  heiress.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  your  cause  triumph, 
you  will  regain  your  confiscated  estates  while  we  shall 
lose  ours.  So  that  there  is,  I  consider,  no  inequality 
whatever  in  their  position.  The  difficulty,  of  course,  to 
which  I  allude  is  their  religion.  This  is  naturally  a  grave 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  J05 

obstacle,  and  I  fear  that  my  husband  will  regard  it  as 
such  even  more  strongly  than  I  do.  He  is,  however,  ex- 
tremely attached  to  Claire,  and  will,  I  feel  sure,  when  he 
BOGS  that  her  happiness  is  at  stake,  come  round  to  my 
views  of  the  matter.  There  are,"  she  said  with  a  smile, 
"Catholics  and  Catholics  just  as  there  are  Protestants 
and  Protestants.  I  would  rather  see  Claire  in  her  grave 
than  married  to  many  Catholics  I  know;  but  neither  you 
nor  Walter  are  bigots." 

"No,  indeed,"  Captain  Davenant  said;  "we  came  over 
to  this  country  when  Catholicism  was  the  religion  of  all 
England,  and  we  have  maintained  the  religious  belief  of 
our  fathers.  I  own  that  what  I  may  call  political  Protes- 
tantism is  hateful  to  me;  but  between  such  Catholicism 
as  mine  and  such  Protestantism  as  yours  I  see  no  such 
broad  distinctions  as  should  cause  us  to  hate  each  other." 

"That  is  just  my  view,"  Mrs.  Conyers  agreed.  "The 
differences  between  the  creeds  are  political  rather  than 
religious,  and  in  any  case  I  consider  that  when  neither  of 
the  parties  is  bigoted,  the  chances  of  happiness  are 
greater  in  the  case  where  the  man  is  a  Catholic  and  the 
woman  a  Protestant  than  in  the  opposite  case." 

"I  think  so  too,"  Captain  Davenant  said.  "At  any 
rate  I  do  not  think  that  Walter  and  Claire  would  be 
likely  to  quarrel  over  their  respective  opinions." 

"I  think  not,"  Mrs.  Conyers  agreed  with  a  smile.  "I 
do  wish  with  all  my  heart  that  it  had  been  otherwise;  but 
as  it  is  not  so,  I  for  my  part  am  determined  to  make  the 
best  of  the  circumstances.  They  are  both  young,  and  it 
is  possible  that  they  may  in  time  come  to  think  alike  one 
way  or  the  other.  I  am  not  one  of  those  who.  think  that 
there  is  but  one  way  to  heaven;  and  should  Walter  some 
day  win  Claire  over  to  his  way  of  thinking,  I  shall  not 
consider  that  she  has  forfeited  her  chances." 

"It  is  quite  as  likely  to  be  the  other  way,"  Captain 


206  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

Davenant  said.  "Walter  is  a  good  lad  and  a  brave  one; 
but  with  all  Claire's  pretty  winning  ways  I  question  if 
the  young  lady  has  not  more  will  of  her  own  and  more 
mind  than  "Walter  has.  I  hope  they  may  agree  each  to 
go  their  own  way,  and  I  think  that  if  they  continue  to 
live  in  this  country  they  will  probably  do  so,  for  here, 
nnhappily,  political  differences  build  up  a  wall  between 
the  two  branches  of  Christianity.  But  if  it  should  come 
that  they  should  some  day  leave  this  unhappy  country 
and  settle  in  England,  where  the  same  ill-feeling  does 
not  exist,  there  is  no  saying  what  may  happen." 

"Well,  at  any  rate,  Captain  Davenant,  it  is  satisfactory 
that  our  views  on  the  subject  agree,  and  that  we  are  both 
willing  to  make  the  best  of  what  we  cannot  but  consider 
to  be  a  misfortune.  But  here  come  the  young  people. 
I  have  no  doubt,"  she  laughed,  "that  they  have  been 
swearing  vows  of  eternal  fidelity." 

"Well,  we  were  young  ourselves  once,  and  we  are  not 
too  old  yet,  Mrs.  Conyers,  to  feel  enjoyment  in  the  hap- 
piness of  these  young  people. " 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Conyers  and  Claire  sailed  for 
England,  and  the  military  events  which  shortly  after- 
ward took  place  left  Walter  little  time  for  thought  on 
ether  subjects. 

On  the  21st  of  September,  two  days  after  the  depar- 
ture of  Mrs.  Conyers,  a  heavy  cannonading  was  heard 
from  the  forts  at  the  mouth  of  Cork  harbor,  and  soon 
afterward  a  horseman  galloped  into  the  town  with  the 
ne?/s  that  an  English  fleet  had  forced  the  entrance  in 
spite  of  the  fire  from  the  forts.  This  fleet  bore  five 
thousand  men  under  the  command  of  the  Earl  of  Marl- 
borough. 

The  English  party  at  court  had  long  been  mortified 
and  disgusted  at  the  manner  in  which  the  English  had 
been  ignored  by  William,  and  all  the  military  commands 


CAN  YOU  GIVE  ME  SHELTER?"    ASKED  WALTER. 


ORANGE  AND  QREEV.  30? 

bestowed  upon  foreigners.  The  discontent  caused  by 
the  want  of  success  which  had  attended  the  operations  in 
Ireland  had  greatly  strengthened  this  party,  and  they 
had  now  succeeded  in  getting  an  independent  English 
expedition  sent  off  under  the  command  of  an  English 
general.  William  was  much  annoyed  at  this,  for  any 
brilliant  success  attained  by  Marlborough  would  have  in- 
creased the  feeling  against  his  foreign  favorites.  He  had 
therefore  dispatched  the  division  of  General  Scravenmore 
to  besiege  the  town  on  the  land  side,  and  had  placed  in 
command  of  it  the  Duke  of  Wirtemberg,  whose  rank  as  a 
prince  and  as  a  general  of  higher  rank  than  Marlborough 
would  enable  him  to  claim  the  supreme  command,  and  to 
carry  off  the  honor  of  any  success  that  might  be  gained. 

This  force  arrived  before  the  town  within  a  day  of  the 
appearance  of  the  fleet.  Marlborough  had  already  made 
good  use  of  his  time,  for  immediately  the  leading  vessels 
had  effected  the  passage,  troops  were  landed  in  boats, 
and  the  batteries  attacked  in  rear  and  carried.  The  rest 
of  the  fleet  then  entered,  and  on  the  23d  and  24th  the 
troops  were  landed  on  the  south  bank  of  the  river  and 
commenced  their  march  toward  the  city,  the  sailors  drag- 
ging the  guns.  Wirtemberg  immediately  sent  to  Marl- 
borough  to  claim  the  command  of  the  whole  force. 

Marlborough  replied  that  his  commission  was  an  in- 
dependent one.  He  denied  the  authority  of  any  of  Will- 
iam's foreign  officers  in  Ireland,  and  stated  haughtily 
that  his  troops  were  British,  and  he  a  British  officer. 
Wirtemberg  was  greatly  offended  that  the  English  gen- 
eral should  affect  to  look  down  upon  the  Danes,  Germans, 
French,  and  other  foreign  ragamuffins  who  composed  his 
command,  and  he  insisted  strongly  upon  his  claims. 
Marlborough  maintained  his  position,  and  Wirtemberg 
was  driven  at  last  to  propose  that  they  should  command 
on  alternate  days,  and  Marlborough  agreed  to  the  pro- 
posal. 


208  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

The  position  of  Cork  was  not  a  strong  one,  although 
in  the  days  before  the  use  of  artillery  it  was  considered 
well-nigh  impregnable,  being  built  upon  the  islands  and 
marshes  formed  by  the  river  Lea,  and  completely  sur- 
rounded by  two  branches  of  the  river.  But  upon  three 
sides  it  was  surrounded  at  a  short  distance  only  by  high 
hills,  which  completely  commanded  it,  and  these  hills 
were  defended  only  by  castles  and  forts  of  no  great 
strength. 

The  garrison  was  but  small,  for  the  Irish  were  taken 
by  surprise  by  the  arrival  of  Marlborough's  expedition, 
and  had  prepared  only  for  a  siege  by  "Wirtemberg  and  his 
foreign  division.  They  were  therefore  obliged  to 
abandon  Shandon  Castle  and  two  adjoining  forts  which 
defended  the  hills  on  the  north  of  the  city,  and  Wirtem- 
berg's  Danes  at  once  took  possession  of  these  works,  and 
planting  their  guns  there,  opened  fire  on  the  northern 
quarter  of  the  city. 

Marlborough  constructed  his  batteries  at  a  monastery 
called  the  Red  Abbey  on  the  south  point  of  the  river, 
where  he  was  separated  from  the  city  only  by  the  stream 
and  narrow  strip  of  marshy  ground.  These  guns  soon 
made  a  breach  in  the  walls,  and  Marlborough  prepared  to 
storm  the  place,  for  at  low  tide  it  was  possible  to  wade 
across  the  marsh  and  river. 

The  garrison,  well  aware  that  they  could  not  long  de- 
fend the  place,  now  offered  to  capitulate  on  the  same 
terms  which  William  had  granted  to  the  garrisons  of 
towns  he  had  captured,  namely,  that  they  should  be  al- 
lowed to  march  out  with  the  honors  of  war,  with  their 
arms  and  baggage,  and  to  make  their  way  unmolested  to 
Limerick.  The  Prince  of  Wirtemberg  was  strongly  in 
favor  of  these  terms  being  granted,  but  Marlborough 
peremptorily  refused.  While  a  sharp  dispute  took  place 
between  the  two  officers,  and  before  any  conclusion  could 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  209 

be  arrived  at,  the  tide  rose,  and  the  regiments  drawn  up 
ready  to  cross  the  river  could  no  longer  pass. 

The  firing  then  recommenced  on  both  sides.  Notwith- 
standing the  efforts  of  the  besieged  to  repair  the  injury 
to  their  wall,  the  breach  daily  increased  in  size.  Wirtem- 
berg  moved  his  forces  round  from  the  north  side  to  take 
their  share  in  the  assault,  and  at  low  tide  the  English 
and  Danes  advanced  against  the  breach.  Under  a  heavy 
fire  from  the  walls  they  struggled  through  the  marshes 
and  entered  the  river,  which  even  at  low  tide,  reached  to 
their  shoulders.  Suffering  heavily  from  the  fire,  they 
pushed  forward  until  they  nearly  reached  the  breach. 
Here  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  who  commanded  the  British 
column,  fell  dead,  with  many  officers  and  men;  but  the 
rest  maintained  their  order  and  were  about  to  make  a 
dash  at  the  breach  when  the  governor  accompanied  by 
Lord  Tyrone,  raised  the  white  flag. 

After  a  short  parley  it  was  agreed  that  the  garrison 
should  become  prisoners  of  war,  but  were  to  be  protected 
in  their  persons  and  private  property;  the  city  was  to  be 
preserved  from  any  injury,  and  the  citizens  and  their 
property  were  to  be  respected. 

Captain  Davenant's  troop  had  remained  idle  during 
the  siege,  as  there  was  no  work  for  cavalry.  They  were 
quartered  near  an  infantry  regiment  which  had  been 
raised  by  MacFinn  O'Driscol  from  among  his  own  ten- 
antry, and  was  commanded  by  him.  O'Driscol  was  a  rela- 
tion of  Mrs.  Davenant,  and  the  two  commanders  were 
often  together.  Both  felt  that  the  city  must  speedily 
fall  unless  the  Irish  army  moved  down  to  its  relief;  but 
they  agreed  that  if  it  surrendered  they  would  make  an 
effort  to  escape  with  their  troops,  for  they  had  no  faith 
in  the  observance  of  any  terms  of  capitulation  which 
might  be  made. 

Accordingly,  as  soon  as  it  was  known  that  the  governor 


310  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

had  surrendered  and  that  the  gates  of  the  town  were  to 
be  handed  over  to  the  British,  O'Driscol  and  Captain 
Davenant  formed  up  their  commands,  and  opening  one 
of  the  gates  marched  boldly  out.  The  exact  terms  on 
which  the  garrison  had  surrendered  were  not  known,  and 
Marlborough  and  "Wirtemberg  were  near  the  breach  ar- 
ranging for  the  troops  to  take  possession  of  the  gates  on 
that  side;  consequently  the  besieging  forces  opposite  the 
gate  from  which  the  little  column  had  marched  out  sup- 
posed that,  in  accordance  with  the  arrangement,  they 
were  coming  out  to  lay  down  their  arms.  They  there- 
fore stood  aside  as  the  column  passed,  being  far  more 
intent  upon  the  plunder  they  expected  to  gather  in  Cork 
than  on  anything  else.  As,  a  few  minutes  later,  the  gates 
were  opened  and  the  troops  poured  into  the  city,  no 
further  thought  was  given  to  the  little  force  which  had 
marched  out;  and  the  five  hundred  infantry  and  the 
troop  of  horse  were  safe  from  pursuit  before  the  news  of 
the  audacious  ruse  they  had  practiced  reached  the  ears  of 
the  generals.  Inside  the  town  the  articles  of  the  treaty 
were  at  once  violated.  The  troops  entered  the  town  in 
crowds,  and,  incited,  as  in  Dublin,  by  a  mob  calling 
themselves  Protestants,  they  proceeded  to  plunder  the 
houses  and  assault  the  Catholic  inhabitants.  The  gov- 
ernor, McCarty,  was  wounded;  the  Earls  of  Tyrone  and 
Clancarty  with  difficulty  made  their  escape  from  the 
mob.  Many  were  killed  and  a  great  destruction  of  prop- 
erty took  place  before  Marlborough  and  Wirtemberg 
entered  the  town  and  put  a  stop  to  the  disorder,  which 
inflicted  great  discredit  upon  them,  as  they  had  made  no 
arrangements  whatever  to  insure  the  safety  of  the  inhab- 
itants, which  they  had  solemnly  guaranteed. 

It  was  now  October,  and  Marlborough  at  once  set  about 
the  investment  of  Kinsale.  On  the  very  evening  of  the 
day  he  entered  Cork  he  sent  off  five  hundred  horse  to- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEK.  Ill 

ward  that  town,  and  the  next  day  marched  thither  him- 
self at  the  head  of  his  infantry.  The  works  of  Kinsale 
consisted  of  two  forts,  both  of  considerable  strength, 
called  the  Old  Fort  and  Charles'  Fort.  They  were  well 
supplied  with  stores  and  provisions  for  a  siege.  On  the 
approach  of  the  besiegers  the  governor  set  fire  to  the 
town  and  retired  to  the  forts,  and,  in  answer  to  the  sum- 
mons to  surrender,  replied  that  "it  would  be  time  enough 
to  talk  about  that  a  month  hence." 

Marlborough  ordered  General  Tettau  to  cross  the  river 
in  boats  with  eight  hundred  picked  men  and  to  carry  Old 
Fort  by  storm.  The  assault  was  made  with  great  deter- 
mination and  bravery;  but  the  works  were  strong  and 
stoutly  defended,  and  the  British  were  about  to  fall  back 
discomfited  when  fortune  came  to  their  assistance.  Some 
loose  powder  ignited  and  fired  the  magazine,  by  which 
more  than  two  hundred  men  of  the  garrison  were  killed 
and  the  works  seriously  injured.  After  this  disaster  the 
governor  abandoned  the  fort  and  withdrew  with  the  sur- 
vivors of  its  garrison  to  Charles'  Fort.  Marlborough  at 
once  commenced  the  siege  of  this  position,  but  for  fifteen 
days  the  place  resisted  all  his  efforts.  The  heavy  loss, 
however,  which  the  garrison  had  suffered  by  the  explosion 
in  Old  Fort  rendered  them  unable,  by  sallies,  to  interfere 
with  the  works  of  the  besiegers.  These  were  carried  on 
with  great  vigor,  for  Marlborough  feared  that  the  ap- 
proach of  the  wet  season  would  put  a  stop  to  his  opera- 
tions. When,  therefore,  the  governor  offered  to  sur- 
render on  the  terms  of  his  being  permitted  "to  march 
away  with  his  garrison,  their  arms,  baggage,  and  all  the 
honors  of  war,  taking  with  them  all  persons  who  wished 
to  accompany  them,  together  with  their  property,  to 
Limerick,"  Marlborough  at  once  granted  the  terms 
demanded. 

The  advent  of  winter  now  put  a  stop  to  regular  opera- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

tions;  but  a  war  of  skirmishes  continued,  and  the  British 
in  their  quarters  were  greatly  straitened  for  forage  and 
provisions.  In  Dublin  the  work  of  confiscation  went  on 
merrily;  the  greater  part  of  the  Catholic  proprietors  of 
the  town  were  thrown  into  prison;  the  various  indict- 
ments against  country  gentlemen,  followed  by  the  con- 
fiscation of  their  property,  were  hurried  through  the 
court  with  the  merest  shadow  of  legal  form;  for  the  de- 
fendants being  absent  and  unacquainted  with  what  was 
being  done  in  Dublin,  it  was  only  necessary  to  recite  the 
accusation  to  find  the  accused  guilty  and  to  pass  sentence 
of  confiscation — all  being  the  work  of  but  a  few  minutes. 

Nothing  could  be  done,  however,  to  carry  the  sen- 
tences into  effect,  for  William's  troops  stiil  possessed 
only  the  ground  the  troops  stood  upon  and  the  towns 
they  occupied.  Outside  those  limits  the  whole  country 
was  against  them.  The  Earl  of  Marlborough  had  re- 
turned to  England  immediately  after  the  surrender  of 
Kinsale;  and  General  Ginckle,  who  had  now  succeeded 
to  the  command,  determined  to  harass  the  enemy  and  to 
increase  the  resources  at  his  disposal  by  an  expedition 
into  the  southwest  of  Ireland,  which,  covered  by  Cork 
and  Limerick,  had  hitherto  been  free  from  the  presence 
of  any  English  troops.  He  therefore  pushed  a  strong 
body  of  cavalry  and  infantry  westward  from  Cork  and 
Kinsale;  and  these  succeeded  in  making  themselves 
masters  of  Castle  Haven,  Baltimore,  Bantry,  and  several 
other  castles  on  the  line  of  coast.  The  district  was  wild 
and  mountainous,  and  the  passes  might  have  been  easily 
held  against  the  advance;  but  the  peasants  had  not  been 
organized  for  resistance,  and  no  serious  opposition  was 
encountered. 

Colonel  O'Driscol,  a  cousin  of  MacFinn  O'Driscol,  and 
Captain  O'Donovan,  two  of  the  principal  proprietors  of 
the  neighborhood,  soon  arrived  upon  the  spot  and  as- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  213 

sembled  a  large  irregular  force,  consisting  chiefly  of 
mounted  peasants,  and  with  these  they  soon  cooped  the 
invaders  up  in  the  castles  they  had  taken.  O'Driscol 
next  attempted  the  recovery  of  his  own  Castle  Haven, 
which  was  strongly  defended  and  stood  on  a  cliff  over- 
hanging the  sea;  but  his  wild  peasants  were  ill  adapted 
for  such  work,  and  they  were  repulsed  by  the  English 
garrison  and  O'Driscol  himself  killed.  But  another  force 
was  advancing  from  the  north;  MacFinn  O'Driscol  with 
his  regiment  pressed  forward  along  the  line  of  Bandon 
Kiver,  besieged  and  captured  Castle  Haven,  and  expelled 
the  English  garrisons  from  Baltimore  and  Bantry. 

General  Tettau  had  also  marched  out  from  Cork  with 
several  regiments  of  infantry  and  dragoons,  with  the  in- 
tention of  penetrating  into  Kerry;  but  the  enemy's  light 
troops  harassed  him  night  and  day,  wasted  the  country, 
and  defended  every  pass;  and  he  was  obliged  to  return 
to  Cork  without  having  accomplished  anything.  All  this 
time  Gincklewas  urging  upon  the  lord- justices,  who  were 
now  the  real  ruling  party  in  Ireland,  to  issue  a  proclama- 
tion offering  pardon  and  security  for  person  and  property 
to  all  who  came  in;  urging  that  it  was  impossible  that  he 
could  ever  subdue  the  country  while  the  whole  popula- 
tion had  everything  at  stake  in  opposing  him. 

He  was  supported  by  King  William,  who  was  most 
anxious  to  bring  the  struggle  to  an  end;  but  the  lord- 
justices  and  the  Protestant  party  at  Dublin,  who  were 
bent  upon  dividing  among  themselves  the  property  of  the 
Catholics  throughout  Ireland,  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the 
arguments  of  Ginckle,  and  their  friends  in  London  had 
sufficient  power  to  prevent  the  king  from  insisting  upon 
his  own  wishes  being  carried  into  effect. 

After  taking  part  in  the  operations  in  Kerry,  Captain 
Davenant's  troop  returned  to  Limerick,  around  which 
city  the  greater  part  of  the  Irish  army  were  still  en- 
camped. 


£14  ORANGE  AND  &&EEJST 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A   DANGEROUS    MISSION. 

"WALTER,"  Captain  Davenant  said  to  his  son  one  day 
when  he  returned  from  a  council  in  which  he  had  taken 
part  at  the  quarters  of  General  Sarsfield,  "I  have  a  mis- 
sion for  you  in  Dublin.  It  is  necessary,  in  the  first  place, 
to  communicate  with  some  of  our  friends  there,  and  in 
the  second  to  ascertain,  as  far  as  we  can,  the  plans  of  the 
enemy  during  the  next  campaign.  There  are  few  of  us 
here  who  would  not  be  readily  recognized  in  Dublin; 
therefore,  when  there  seemed  a  difficulty  in  selecting 
some  one  to  undertake  the  duty,  I  said  that  I  thought 
you  would  be  likely  to  succeed  better  than  most. 

"You  have  not  been  any  time  in  Dublin,  and  I  ques- 
tion whether  a  single  person  there  would  be  likely  to  rec- 
ognize you.  You  will,  of  course,  be  in  disguise,  and  your 
youth  will  be  in  your  favor.  I  don't  say  there  is  no 
danger  in  such  an  undertaking,  but  I  do  not  think  the 
risk  is  greater  than  that  which  you  have  frequently  run. 
I  was  sure  you  would  readily  undertake  the  mission,  and 
I  thought  I  could  answer  for  your  intelligence  as  well  as 
your  discretion." 

"I  will  undertake  it  certainly,  father, 'if  you  think  me 
capable  of  it,"  Walter  said;  "it  is  dull  enough  here  now 
that  the  wet  weather  has  thoroughly  set  in,  and  I  shall 
really  like  the  adventure.  When  am  I  to  set  out?" 

"To-morrow.  Your  instructions  and  the  letters  you 
are  to  carry  will  be  drawn  up  to-night,  and  you  can  set 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  315 

off  after  breakfast.  I  shall  ride  with  you,  with  a  part  of 
the  troop,  until  you  are  past  the  point  where  you  are 
likely  to  fall  in  with  any  body  of  the  enemy's  cavalry; 
after  that  you  will,  of  course,  shift  for  yourself.  We 
think  you  had  best  travel  on  foot,  dressed  as  a  peasant; 
in  that  way  you  will  attract  no  attention  and  pass  through 
towns  occupied  by  the  enemy  without  questioning." 

"I  think,  father,  I  will  take  Larry  with  me,  if  you 
have  no  objection.  He  would  be  the  real  thing,  and 
could  do  most  of  the  talking;  besides  sometimes  it  is 
very  useful  to  have  some  one  to  send  with  a  message,  or 
to  put  on  guard  when  one  went  in  anywhere." 

"Take  him,  by  all  means,  Walter,  and,  indeed,  I  agree 
with  you  that  you  may  find  him  very  useful." 

Accordingly  the  following  morning  Walter  and  Larry, 
dressed  as  young  peasants,  mounted,  and  with  the  troop 
started  from  the  camp.  No  signs  of  any  parties  of  the 
enemy  were  seen  during  their  ride,  and  after  proceeding 
some  twenty-five  miles,  they  dismounted,  and  with  a 
hearty  farewell  from  Captain  Davenant  and  a  cheer  from 
the  men  they  started  on  foot. 

The  letters  of  which  Walter  was  the  bearer  had  been 
written  on  very  small  pieces  of  paper  and  had  been  sewix 
up  inside  the  collar  of  his  coat.  His  instructions  as  to 
the  persons  on  whom  he  was  to  call  had  been  learned  by 
heart  and  the  paper  destroyed.  Larry  was  in  high  glee 
at  taking  part  in  the  adventure,  and  laughed  and  jested 
as  they  made  their  way  along.  They  avoided  the  main 
roads  running  to  Waterford  and  Dublin,  as  they  would 
probably  have  fallen  in  with  parties  of  troops  journeying 
west,  and  might  have  been  shot  out  of  pure  wantonness, 
besides  being  exposed  to  the  risk  of  being  asked  awkward 
questions. 

They  slept  at  peasants'  houses,  where  they  were  every- 
where hospitably  received  as  soon  as  their  hosts  assured 


216  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

themselves  that  they  were  Catholics.  Larry  was  the 
principal  spokesman,  for  although  Walter,  like  all  the 
Catholic  gentry,  spoke  the  native  language,  he  was  not 
so  fluent  as  his  follower,  to  whom  it  came  naturally,  as, 
although  the  peasantry  in  the  neighborhood  of  Dublin 
were  all  able  to  speak  English,  they  always  conversed  in 
Irish  among  themselves.  Larry  gave  out  that  he  and  his 
companion  had  been  serving  in  the  army  and  had  ob- 
tained leave  to  pay  a  visit  to  their  native  village  near 
Dublin  for  the  winter. 

"I  doubt  whether  you  will  find  much  of  it  standing," 
one  of  their  hosts  said,  "for  I  hear  that  County  Wicklow 
and  all  round  Dublin  has  been  wasted  by  them  foreign 
devils  in  Dublin.  The  curse  of  Cromwell  be  upon  them! 
but  we'll  be  aven  wid  them  yet.  They  say  nezt  spring  a 
big  French  army  is  coming  and  they  will  set  the  Ger- 
mans running  so  that  they  won't  stop  till  the  last  man 
gets  on  board  ship  and  ould  Ireland  is  free  from  them, 
the  murthering  haythens.  But  you  must  be  careful, 
lads,  and  not  let  out  to  a  sowl  that  ye  have  been  wid  the 
boys  in  the  west,  or  it's  short  work  they  would  make  of 
you." 

In  every  case  they  were  asked  questions  about  sons  or 
relations  with  the  army,  and  were  often  able  to  give  new* 
as  to  where  the  regiments  to  which  they  belonged  were 
stationed,  and  of  the  part  they  had  taken  during  the  last 
year's  fighting.  News  traveled  slowly  and  was  circulated 
principally  by  means  of  traveling  peddlers,  who  hawked 
their  wares  from  village  to  village  and  reported  what  was 
going  on  in  the  outside  world.  Thus,  although  the  peas- 
ants were  aware  of  the  general  details  of  the  fighting 
which  had  taken  place,  they  knew  nothing  of  the  part 
which  the  various  regiments  had  borne  in  it. 

Reading  and  writing  were  rare  accomplishments  and 
the  post  was  altogether  interrupted,  so  that  many  re- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  217 

mained  in  suspense,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of 
the  war,  as  to  the  fate  of  those  who  had  left  them  to  take 
part  in  it.  The  friends  did  not  make  long  journeys,  for 
Walter  was  unaccustomed  to  walk  barefooted,  and  his 
feet  at  first  were  very  sore  and  tender;  but  by  the  time 
they  reached  Dublin  they  had  hardened  and  he  was  able 
to  stride  along  by  the  side  of  Larry,  who,  until  he  started 
with  him  for  the  war,  had  never  had  on  a  pair  of  shoes 
in  his  life. 

As  soon  as  they  reached  Dublin  they  made  their  way 
to  the  quarters  inhabited  by  the  working-classes.  There 
"Walter  purchased  shoes  and  made  such  alteration  in  their 
attire  as  to  do  away  with  their  country  aspect  and  give 
them  the  appearance  of  two  young  fellows  belonging  to 
the  town.  Having  hired  a  room  and  made  these  changes 
they  sallied  out. 

The  streets  were  thronged  with  foreign  troops,  who 
"behaved  as  if  in  a  conquered  country,  swaggering  along 
the  streets,  pushing  the  citizens  out  into  the  middle  of 
the  road,  abusing  the  tradesmen  who  refused  to  part  with 
their  goods  at  nominal  prices,  making  insolent  remarks 
to  any  woman  who  hurried  past  them,  and  behaving  with 
a  freedom  and  license  which  showed  how  completely  all 
bonds  of  discipline  were  relaxed. 

"They  look  mighty  bould,"  Larry  whispered,  "but  it's 
mighty  little  of  it  they  show  when  they  see  the  Irish, 
horse  advancing  agin  them.  No  one  would  think,  to  see 
them  now,  as  they  were  the  men  we  saw  spurring  away 
for  the  bare  life  on  Boyne  Water." 

"No,  indeed,  Larry,"  agreed  Walter,  who  was  furious 
at  what  he  saw.  "I  wish  we  had  a  few  squadrons  of 
Sarsfield's  horse  here;  we  would  clear  the  street  of  these 
Termin  in  no  time.  But  you  must  be  careful,  Larry. 
Whatever  happens  we  must  not  get  into  any  brawl.  We 
have  a  mission  to  perform,  and  must  not  think  of  our- 
selves," 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"I  will  remember  it,  yer  honor." 

It  was  well  that  Larry  had  been  warned,  for  the  next 
moment  a  German  soldier  passing  brushed  against  him, 
and  then,  with  a  savage  oath,  turned  and  struck  him  to 
the  ground.  Larry  sprang  up  with  his  eyes  blazing  with 
passion,  but  he  caught  Walter's  warning  "Larry,"  and, 
hanging  his  head,  moved  away  without  a  word. 

"That's  right,  Larry,"  Walter  said  approvingly.  "I 
was  afraid  for  a  moment  that  you  were  going  to  spring 
at  that  fellow.  If  you  had  you  would  have  been  in  a 
lock-up  in  five  minutes,  and  as  you  could  have  given  no 
good  account  of  yourself,  there  you  might  have  remained 
for  weeks." 

"If  ever  I  meet  that  fellow  outside  Dublin,"  Larry 
muttered  savagely,  "I  will  pay  him  for  the  blow  he  gave 
me." 

Seeing  the  risk  of  another  encounter  of  the  same  kind 
Walter  led  the  way  down  to  the  bank  of  the  river,  and 
there  they  remained  chatting  until  it  became  dusk. 

"Now,  Larry,  I  must  begin  my  work.  My  first  visit 
is  to  be  to  a  merchant  who  lives  in  a  street  close  to  where 
the  ships  discharge.  While  I  am  in  do  you  sit  down  on 
a  doorstep  near  and  keep  a  sharp  lookout  to  see  whether 
the  house  is  watched.  It  is  not  likely,  but  all  the  better 
class  of  Catholics  who  remain  in  the  town  are  regarded 
with  suspicion." 

Walter  had  no  trouble  in  finding  the  house  he  was  in 
search  of,  and,  knocking  at  the  door,  he  told  the  servant 
who  opened  it  that  he  wanted  to  see  the  master. 

"You  must  come  in  business  hours,"  the  man  said; 
"he  can't  see  you  now." 

"I  have  a  letter  to  him  from  his  friend  Mr.  Fitzgerald, 
of  Waterford.  If  you  tell  him  that  I  think  he  will  see 
me  now." 

"That's  all  right,"  the  man  said.     "He  tould  me  if  any 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  819 

one  came  with  a  letter  from  that  gentleman  I  was  to  show 
him  up.'* 

So  saying  he  led  him  upstairs. 

"Here's  a  young  man,  your  honor,  with  the  letter  you 
tould  me  about  from  Mr.  Fitzgerald." 

"Show  him  in,"  a  voice  said;  and  Walter  entered  a 
sitting-room.  The  gentleman  who  was  with  him  said 
nothing  until  the  door  was  closed  behind  him:  then  he 
asked: 

"Has  the  ship  come  in?" 

To  which  Walter  replied: 

"She  is  sailing  slowly,  but  she  will  come." 

"That's  right,"  the  merchant  said  rising.  "Where  do 
you  come  from?" 

"I  am  Walter  Davenant,  a  cornet  in  my  father's  troop 
of  horse,  and  I  have  come  direct  from  Limerick.  I  have 
a  letter  for  you  in  my  collar." 

He  pulled  off  his  coat,  the  merchant  handed  him  a 
knife,  he  ripped  open  the  collar,  and  taking  out  the 
papers  concealed  there  picked  out  that  intended  for  Mr. 
O'Brian,  which  was  not  directed,  but  had  only  a  slight 
mark  upon  it  to  distinguish  it  from  the  others.  The 
merchant  read  it  in  silence. 

"I  am  disappointed,  Mr.  Davenant,"  he  said  as  he 
finished  it.  "I  had  hoped  that  a  dash  would  be  made 
at  Dublin  this  winter;  but  •  the  general  says  that  it  has 
been  decided  to  fight  one  more  campaign  on  the  defen- 
sive, and  that  in  the  autumn,  when  the  French  arrive, 
there  will  be  a  general  advance.  Now,  I  am  ready  to  an- 
swer any  question  you  are  instructed  to  ask." 

"In  the  first,  place,  sir,  how  many  men  do  you  think 
would  be  ready  to  join  in  any  rising  in  Dublin?" 

"It  would  all  depend  upon  whether  an  Irish  army  was 
advancing  in  this  direction.  In  that  case  some  seven  or 
eight  thousand,  men  would  rise.  But  unless  there  were  a 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

hope  of  early  assistance  I  do  not  think  that  above  a 
thousand  could  be  relied  on.  I  have  about  that  number 
on  my  list.  They,  as  you  see,  could  do  nothing  unas- 
sisted. There  are  three  or  four  thousand  troops  here, 
and  the  Protestant  mob  who  would  join  them  would 
number  seven  or  eight  thousand  at  the  very  least. 
Therefore  any  attempt  to  rise  in  the  face  of  such  odds, 
unless  after  a  crushing  defeat  of  William's  troops,  would 
be  out  of  the  question.  But,  as  I  said,  ir  an  army  were 
-marching  on  Dublin,  the  Protestants  would  be  thinking 
more  of  taking  to  their  ships  than  fighting,  and  all  the 
Catholics  in  the  city  would  then  join  the  movement." 

"I  think  the  general  hoped  that  you  could  have  mus- 
tered a  stronger  force,  sir." 

"So  I  could  a  year  ago,"  Mr.  O'Brian  said;  "but  the 
constant  persecution  and  ill-treatment  of  the  Catholics 
have  caused  large  numbers  of  them  to  leave  the  town. 
Many  of  the  younger  and  more  determined  men  have 
made  their  way  west  and  joined  the  army.  I  fear  that 
the  numbers  I  have  given  are  quite  as  many  as  can  be  re- 
lied upon." 

"The  general  was  in  hopes,"  Walter  said,  "that  a  di- 
version might  have  been  caused  in  the  spring  by  a  rising 
in  Dublin,  which  would,  even  if  unsuccessful,  compel  the 
Dutch  general  to  keep  a  large  force  here." 

"It  might  have  been  done  six  or  eight  months  ago," 
Mr.  O'Brian  said;  "but  the  spirit  of  the  people  here  has 
been  very  much  broken  as  well  as  their  numbers  dimin- 
ished. But  you  can  rely  upon  it  that  if  anything  like  a 
general  rising  can  be  got  up,  we  will  do  our  share  here. 
With  but  a  thousand  men  I  can  rely  on,  I  feel  that  any 
open  insurrection  would  be  hopeless;  but  we  could  fire 
the  city  at  a  score  of  points  night  after  night,  and  so 
alarm  the  citizens  that  they  would  insist  on  a  consider- 
able force  being  kept  here  for  their  protection,  and  thig 


ORANGE  AND  GREEK.  221 

would  aid  our  friends  outside.  I  know  nothing  as  to 
what  is  being  done  there,  I  have  only  charge  of  the  matter 
inside  the  city." 

"I  ain  well  aware  of  that,  sir,  and  have  to  call  upon. 
those  who  have  the  threads  of  the  movement  throughout 
the  country  in  their  hands.  I  only  arrived  to-day,  and 
came  to  yon  first  in  order  that  I  might  know  how  matters 
stand  here  before  I  see  the  others*  I  shall,  of  course,  call 
again  upon  you  before  I  leave." 

After  leaving  Mr.  O'Brian,  Walter  visited  the  houses  of 
several  others  to  whom  he  bore  letters.  The  accounts  of 
the  feeling  throughout  the  country  were  more  encourag- 
ing than  those  which  he  had  received  from  Mr.  O'Brian. 
The  hatred  of  the  invaders  was  greater  than  ever,  and 
the  peasantry  in  all  parts  were  in  a  state  of  sullen  desper- 
ation; indeed  the  enemy  could  nowhere  move  in  small 
parties  without  the  certainty  of  being  attacked.  The 
pressing  need  was  arms.  A  great  part  of  the  peasants 
who  owned  guns  had  already  joined  the  army,  and  the 
rest  possessed  no  weapons  beyond  roughly-made  pikes 
and  scythes  fixed  on  long  handles.  These  were  formidable 
weapons  in  a  sudden  attack  on  any  small  party,  but  they 
would  not  enable  the  peasants  to  cope  with  any  chance  of 
success  against  considerable  bodies  of  troops,  especially 
if  provided  with  artillery.  The  persons  whom  "Walter  saw 
were  in  communication  with  the  disaffected  in  all  parts 
of  the  country,  and  agreed  in  the  opinion  that  a  general 
rising  should  be  delayed  until  some  striking  success  was 
obtained  by  the  Irish  army,  when  the  whole  country 
would  rise  and  fall  upon  the  enemy  wherever  met  with. 
The  plans  for  a  rising  having  been  discussed  and  arranged 
after  several  interviews,  at  some  of  which  most  of  tha 
leaders  of  the  movement  were  present,  Walter  prepared 
to  start  again  for  the  camp  with  the  news  that  the  first 
Irish  victory  would  be  followed  by  a  rising  throughout 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

the  country,  aided  by  great  conflagrations  if  not  by  a 
serious  movement  in  Dublin. 

The  negotiations  had  occupied  over  a  fortnight.  Dur- 
ing the  first  ten  days,  Larry,  who  always  kept  watch  out- 
side the  house  Walter  was  visiting,  reported  that  nothing 
whatever  had  occurred  that  was  in  the  slightest  degree 
suspicious.  Then  he  told  Walter,  on  his  retiring  to  their 
lodgings,  that  he  fancied  their  footsteps  were  followed. 

"Do  you  think  so,  Larry?" 

"I  do,  yer  honor,"  Larry  replied  earnestly.  "Three 
times  when  you  were  in  the  house  the  same  man  came 
along  the  street,  and  each  time  I  saw  him  look  up  at  the 
windows,  and  somehow  I  felt  that  he  was  following  us  on 
our  way  back.  I  looked  round  several  times,  and  each 
time  I  fancied  I  saw  a  fellow  slip  into  a  doorway." 

"That  is  serious,  Larry.  You  don't  think  any  one  in 
this  house  can  have  a  suspicion  of  us?" 

"Not  they,  yer  honor.  They  all  think  it's  just  as  you 
say;  that  the  village  was  burned,  and  we  have  come  to 
look  for  work  in  the  city.  Besides,  if  it  was  any  one 
here,  he  wouldn't  have  to  take  the  trouble  to  track  us 
back." 

"That's  true  enough,  Larry.  No;  if  there  is  a  sus- 
picion, it  must  be  from  some  spy  in  the  house  of  one  of 
the  gentlemen  I  have  visited.  We  know  that  the  leading 
Catholics  are  all  suspected,  and  some  of  the  servants  may 
have  been  bribed  to  report  everything  which  takes  place 
in  the  house.  We  must  be  very  careful;  and  let  us  ar- 
range this,  Larry,  that  if  there  is  trouble  and  we  get 
separated,  we  will  neither  of  us  come  back  to  our  lodg- 
ing, but  will  meet  at  that  burned-out  village  three  miles 
along  the  western  road.  If  anything  happens  to  me,  go 
to  the  first  house  I  went  to,  and  see  Mr.  O'Brian,  and  tell 
him  that  I  have  been  taken.  If  there  is  anything  to  be 
done  he  will  do  it;  if  not,  make  your  way  straight  back 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

J 

to  Limerick.  I  have  told  you  exactly  what  has  been  ar- 
ranged with  people  I  have  seen,  and  you  can  tell  my 
father,  who  will  report  to  the  general.  But  whatever 
you  do,  don't  stop  here  with  any  idea  of  getting  me  out 
of  their  hands.  The  most  important  thing  is  that  they 
should  know  at  Limerick  exactly  what  has  been  arranged. 
If  you  remain  here  you  would  almost  certainly  be  caught 
also,  for  as  the  man  who  has  followed  us  will  be  aware 
that  we  are  together,  a  search  will  at  once  be  made  for 
you.  So  mind,  my  orders  are  that  if  you  see  I  am  in 
trouble  you  are  at  once  to  set  out  for  Limerick.  If  you 
think  that  I  may  manage  to  get  away,  you  are  also  to 
leave  at  once,  but  are  to  wait  for  me  for  twelve  hours  at 
the  village  three  miles  out.  If  I  do  not  come  by  the  end 
of  that  time  it  will  be  that  I  have  been  taken,  and  you 
are  to  go  straight  on." 

It  was  on  the  evening  when  all  the  arrangements  were 
finally  settled  that  a  loud  knocking  was  heard  at  the  door 
of  the  house  where  eight  of  the  principal  persons  in  the 
affair  were  assembled.  One  of  them  looked  out  of  the 
window  and  announced  that  the  street  was  full  of  sol- 
diers. All  leaped  to  their  feet  and  drew  their  swords. 

"It  is  of  no  use  to  resist,  gentlemen,"  Walter  said. 
"Do  you  put  bottles  and  glasses  on  the  table  and  sit 
down  quietly.  I  will  try  to  escape.  If  they  find  you 
alone  they  can  prove  nothing  against  you,  and  if  I  get 
safe  off  you  also  are  safe.  Is  there  any  way  out  on  to  the 
roof?  No  doubt  the  house  is  watched  behind." 

"There  is  a  trapdoor,"  the  gentleman,  in  whose  house 
they  were,  said,  and  led  the  way  upstairs  at  full  speed. 

As  he  was  unbolting  the  trap  Walter  ran  into  a  bed- 
room and  seized  an  armful  of  blankets,  then  ran  up  the 
ladder  to  the  trapdoor  and  stepped  out  on  to  the  roof. 
The  door  was  closed  behind  him,  and  he  heard  the  bolts 
drawn,  and  then  his  host  ran  downstairs  and  told  the 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

frightened  servants  to  open  the  doors,  which  had  so  far 
resisted  the  attack  from  without.  Headed  by  an  officer, 
the  soldiers  rushed  in. 

"What  means  this  violence?"  the  gentleman  asked. 
"Why  is  my  house  broken  into  in  this  way?" 

"I  arrest  you  and  all  who  are  in  this  house,*'  the 
officer  said,  "on  the  charge  of  treason." 

"Treason!"  the  gentleman  said  coolly;  "you  will  find 
no  treason  here.  I  have  a  few  friends  upstairs  who  are 
cracking  a  bottle  of  port;  but  that  is  not,  so  far  as  I  am 
aware,  against  the  law." 

The  officer  ran  upstairs  to  the  room  where  the  others 
were  standing,  as  if  surprised  at  the  tumult,  round  the 
table,  on  which  were  bottles  and  half-filled  glasses. 

"Take  the  namea  of  all  these  persons,"  the  officer  said 
to  the  sergeant  who  followed  him,  "and  then  convey 
them  in  custody  to  the  castle." 

"There  is  no  trouble  about  their  names,"  the  host  said. 
"All  are  well  known  and  peaceful  citizens,  as  can  be 
testified  by  any  magistrate." 

"Where  is  the  man  who  was  with  you?"  the  officer 
said,  looking  round. 

"There  is,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  no  one  in  the  house, 
sir,  beyond  these  gentlemen  and  my  domestics/' 

"It  is  a  lie!"  the  officer  exclaimed  furiously.  "A  man 
was  seen  to  enter  this  house  an  hour  and  a  half  ago,  aud 
no  one  has  left  since." 

"A  youag  man!  Oh,  I  suppose  you  mean  the  young 
fellow  who  brought  me  a  message  from  my  cousin  at 
Waterford,  and  who  called  to  ask  if  I  had  yet  found  him 
any  employment.  Oh,  yes,  he  has  been  here,  but  left 
some  time  ago,  unless  he  is  chatting  with  the  maids  in 
the  kitchen." 

The  officer  directed  a  rigorous  search  to  be  made  of  the 
bouse.  The  soldiers  soon  reported  that  every  nook  and 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  225 

corner  had  been  examined,  but  that  no  one  was  to  be 
found.  At  this  moment  a  shot  was  fired  in  the  street, 
and  a  sergeant  ran  in. 

"Captain  Peters  bid  me  say,  sir,  that  they  have  just 
caught  sight  of  a  man  on  the  roof  of  a  house  some  dis- 
tance along  the  street." 

"Take  the  prisoners  to  the  castle  under  a  strong  guard, 
sergeant.  You  will  be  answerable  for  their  safety,"  the 
officer  exclaimed,  as  he  ran  downstairs. 

Directly  the  trap  closed  behind  him,  Walter — sure  that 
some  minutes  would  pass  before  the  method  of  his  escape 
was  known — tore  the  blankets  he  had  brought  with  him 
into  wide  strips,  tied  the  ends  together,  and  twisted 
them  up  into  the  form  of  a  rope;  then,  coiling  this  over 
his  arm,  he  made  his  way  along  the  roofs.  The  street 
below  was  now  a  mass  of  people.  The  report  that  a 
Popish  plot  had  been  discovered,  and  that  a  number  of 
important  arrests  had  been  made,  spread  quickly  as  the 
soldiers  were  seen  gathered  round  the  house.  The  news 
was  sufficient  to  stir  up  party  feelings,  and  the  mob 
which  collected  soon  set  up  the  shout  which  had  of  late 
been  so  often  raised  in  the  streets  of  Dublin — "Down 
with  the  Papists  I" 

Soon  the  crashing  of  glass  was  heard,  as  stones  were 
hurled  at  the  dwellings  of  known  Catholics.  Walter, 
anxious  for  the  safety  of  Larry,  who  was,  he  knew,  some- 
where without,  tried  to  look  down  into  the  street  to  see 
what  was  going  on,  believing  that  in  the  darkness  he 
could  not  be  seen.  The  flash  of  a  musket,  and  the 
whistle  of  a  ball  close  to  him  showed  him  that  his  figure 
had  been  seen  against  the  sky-line.  Drawing  back,  he 
paused  a  moment  in  thought.  The  trapdoor  would  be 
discovered  at  once,  and  a  search  on  the  roof  commenced, 
and  the  soldiers  would  be  placed  behind  the  houses. 
There  was  no  time  to  be  lost  in.  continuing  his  search  for 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

a  house  with  a  building  projecting  behind  on  to  which 
he  could  lower  himself  with  his  rope,  which  was  not 
nearly  long  enough  to  reach  the  ground. 

Looking  over  at  the  back  between  two  of  the  sharp 
ridges  of  the  roofs,  he  hung  his  rope  BO  that  it  would  fall 
across  a  window,  fastened  the  end  round  a  stack  of  chim- 
neys, and  then  taking  hold  of  it,  swung  himself  over. 
He  had  been  very  careful  in  tying  the  knots,  and  had 
tested  them  by  pulling  at  them  with  all  his  strength; 
but  he  did  not  feel  at  all  certain  that  they  might  not  draw 
with  his  weight,  in  which  case  he  must  have  been  dashed 
to  pieces  on  the  ground  far  below  him;  but  there  was  no 
time  to  hesitate,  and  as  fast  as  he  could  he  began  to  slide 
down  the  rope,  the  frequent  knots  affording  good  hold  for 
his  hands. 

At  last  he  reached  the  window.  It  was  made  of  the 
small  diamond-shaped  panes  at  that  time  in  general  use. 
Holding  the  rope  with  one  hand  and  his  legs,  he  dashed 
the  other  hand  through  a  pane  just  where  he  judged  the 
fastening  inside  would  be.  Three  panes  were  beaten  in 
before  he  felt  the  latch.  This  was  easily  turned.  The 
frame  opened  outward,  and  he  had  some  difficulty  in  pull- 
ing it  past  him;  then,  grasping  the  woodwork,  he  drew 
himself  in,  and  with  a  great  effort  succeeded  in  gaining  a 
sufficient  holding  to  enable  him  to  leave  go  of  the  rope 
and  make  good  his  footing  inside. 

He  had  little  fear  of  the  inmates  of  the  house  taking 
notice  of  the  fall  of  glass;  for  had  they  noticed  the  sound 
above  the  din  in  the  street  they  would  have  supposed 
that  the  breakage  was  caused  by  one  of  the  flying  stones. 
He  ran  lightly  downstairs  and  opened  a  door  at  the  back 
of  the  house  and  found  himself  in  the  yard.  The  wall 
was  not  very  high,  and  a  spring  enabled  him  to  get  his 
fingers  on  the  top.  He  was  soon  sitting  there,  and  then 
dropped  into  the  road  behind.  The  sound  of  his  fall 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

caught  the  ears  of  the  soldiers  who  were  stationed  at  the 
back  of  the  house  from  whence  he  had  started,  some 
fifty  yards  away. 

There  was  a  sharp  challenge,  and  then,  as  no  answer 
was  given,  four  or  five  shots  were  fired,  and  there  was  a 
rush  of  feet  along  the  road. 

As  it  was  only  in  the  principal  thoroughfares  that  a 
few  lights  were  exhibited,  the  road  would  have  been  in 
complete  darkness  had  not  the  clouds  just  at  that  mo- 
ment blown  away  from  the  face  of  the  moon,  which  was 
half  full. 

The  shots,  however,  had  been  fired  hastily,  and 
Walter  dashed  off  at  full  speed  unhurt.  He  heard  shouts 
from  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  and  one  or  two  shots  were 
fired,  but  the  chance  of  his  being  hit  was  but  small. 

The  sound,  however,  told  the  soldiers  and  crowd  in 
the  front  street  that  the  fugitive  was  escaping  at  the 
rear,  and  there  was  a  general  rush  down  the  street  to  the 
next  turning.  Walter  was  a  hundred  yards  ahead  before 
the  mob  reached  the  turning,  and  was  rapidly  distancing 
the  soldiers  who  were  pursuing  him.  Unfortunately, 
however,  there  were  many  people  hurrying  from  all 
sides,  attracted  by  the  shouting  and  firing.  Several  of 
these,  in  response  to  the  shouts  of  the  soldiers,  tried  to 
stop  him  as  he  dashed  past,  and  failing  to  do  so,  at  once 
joined  in  the  pursuit. 

Walter  saw  that  he  must  be  captured  if  he  kept 
straight  on,  for  a  group  of  men  approaching,  warned  by 
the  shouts  of  his  pursuers,  prepared  to  seize  him.  He 
therefore  turned  sharp  down  a  narrow  lane  to  his  left. 
Another  fifty  yards  he  was  through  this,  and  found  him- 
self on  the  road  running  by  the  side  of  the  Liffey.  With- 
out a  moment's  hesitation  he  sprang  across  it  and 
plunged  into  the  river. 

Even  in  the  moment  of  his  spring  he  perceived  that 


228  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

the  tide  was  running  up.  Had  it  been  ebbing  he  would 
have  made  down  and  tried  to  gain  the  shore  under  shelter 
of  the  shipping  moored  below.  But  it  was  useless  to 
think  of  swimming  against  the  tide.  His  pursuers  were 
but  a  few  yards  behind  him,  and  the  second  time  he  rose 
to  the  surface  for  air  two  or  three  shots  were  fired.  He 
dived  again,  and  when  he  next  came  up  took  a  deliberate 
look  round  in  order  to  judge  of  his  chances.  He  was 
now  about  a  third  of  the  way  across.  The  shore  he  had 
left  was  already  lined  with  people,  and  several  were 
gathering  on  the  opposite  bank. 

_Two  or  three  shots  struck  the  water  close  to  him,  and 
he  knew  that  he  was  visible  to  his  pursuers.  Taking  a 
long  breath  he  again  went  under  water.  He  was  a  first- 
rate  swimmer  and  diver,  having  bathed  regularly  summer 
and  winter  in  the  bay  below  the  castle. 

He  had  this  time  turned  his  face  toward  the  shore  he 
had  quitted.  The  tide  he  knew  was  sweeping  him  up. 
He  kept  under  water  as  long  as  he  possibly  could,  swim- 
ming his  hardest.  When  he  could  keep  under  no  longer, 
he  turned  on  his  back  and  permitted  himself  to  rise 
slowly  to  the  surface. 

The  moment  his  mouth  and  nostrils  were  above  water 
he  got  rid  of  the  pent-up  air,  took  another  breath,  and 
sank  again.  He  swam  on  until  he  felt  by  the  ground 
rising  rapidly  in  front  of  him  that  he  was  close  to  the 
trige.  He  then  cautiously  came  to  the  surface  and 
looked  round.  He  was  close  under  the  bank  from  which 
he  had  started,  but  two  or  three  hundred  yards  higher 
up.  The  bank  rose  straight  up  some  twelve  feet  above 
him,  and  he  could  hear  persons  talking  close  to  its  edge 
—"There  he  is."— "No,  he  isn't."— "Pretty  nearly  over 
the  other  side."— "I  don't  see  him."— "They  will  catch 
him  as  he  gets  out. " — "I  believe  he  has  sunk. " — "He  never 
could  keep  under  all  this  time." — "One  of  the  bullets 
must  have  hit  him." 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  229 

Then  a  voice  in  the  crowd  shouted,  "There's  his  head 
just  in  the  middle  of  the  river/'  and  a  stone  splashed  in 
the  stream.  It  was  followed  by  a  volley  of  other  stones 
and  several  musket-shots  in  the  same  direction. 

Walter,  having  now  got  his  breath,  sunk  his  head 
quietly  below  the  water,  and  swam  on  again,  keeping 
close  tinder  the  bank.  Whenever  he  came  up  for  air  he 
listened  for  a  moment.  Shots  were  still  being  fired  be- 
low him,  and  he  knew  that  the  attention  of  all  upon  the 
shores  was  still  directed  toward  the  center  of  the  stream, 
and  that  there  was  but  small  chance  of  any  one  leaning 
over  to  gaze  down  into  the  water  close  to  their  feet. 

His  hopes  rose  as  every  minute  placed  him  further 
from  his  pursuers.  He  could  no  longer  hear  voices  above 
him  when  he  rose,  but  he  swam  on  for  upward  of  a  mile 
and  struggled  up  the  bank  well  beyond  the  walls  of  the 
town. 

He  lay  down  a  few  minutes  to  rest  himself,  walked 
half  a  mile  along  the  bank,  and  then  entering  the  river 
again,  swam  across,  for  the  road  he  was  to  follow  was  on 
the  south  side  of  it. 

He  made  his  way  across  the  country  until  he  saw  a 
small  shed.  He  entered  this,  and  finding  some  hay  in 
the  loft,  stripped  off  his  wet  clothes,  and  crept  deep  into 
the  hay  to  warm  himself,  for  the  water  was  cold,  and  he 
was  shivering  from  head  to  foot.  As  soon  as  it  was  light 
he  again  put  on  his  clothes  and  started  at  a  run,  which 
he  maintained  until  he  was'in  a  thorough  glow  in  spite  of 
his  wet  clothing.  He  did  not  approach  the  village,  at 
which  he  had  arranged  to  meet  Larry,  until  the  sun  was 
high  and  his  clothes  had  dried  so  far  that  they  would  not 
attract  the  attention  of  any  one  who  might  be  passing. 
Then  he  went  into  the  deserted  village  and  took  up  his 
place  in  one  of  the  ruined  cottages,  from  which  he  could 
obtain  a  view  of  the  road  from  Dublin. 


230  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

Half  an  hour  later  he  saw  Larry  coming  along  it.  Al- 
though there  was  no  one  else  in  sight,  some  one  might 
be  going  the  other  way,  and  Walter  therefore  remained 
in  his  hiding-place  till  Larry  was  abreast  of  him,  when 
he  showed  his  head  in  the  doorway  and  called  him  by 
name. 

Larry  gave  a  cry  of  joy,  and  rushing  in,  threw  his  arms 
round  him  and  burst  into  tears. 

"It's  a  terrible  fright  you  have  given  me !"  he  exclaimed 
when  he  could  find  words.  "I  have  been  breaking  my 
heart  all  night.  Sure  I  thought  you  were  at  the  bottom 
of  the  river." 

"Not  this  time,  Larry,  though  it  was  a  pretty  close 
thing.  Did  you  see  it  all  ?" 

"Sure  and  I  did,"  Larry  said.  "I  was  sitting  on  a 
doorstep  watching  the  house  when  I  saw  the  sodgers 
coming  along.  They  turned  up  from  a  side  street,  and  were 
so  close  that  I  saw  I  could  not  get  across  and  get  the  door 
opened  in  time  to  give  you  the  alarm.  Then  they  began 
to  knock  at  the  door,  and  for  a  bit  I  felt  so  wake  that  I 
could  not  move.  Then  the  crowd  began  to  gather,  and 
then  I  said  to  myself,  The  master  will  try  to  shlip  out  at 
the  back  of  the  house.  So  I  went  round,  but  I  found 
the  thieves  of  the  world  waiting  for  ye  there.  But  I  was 
sure  ye  weren't  the  one  to  let  them  take  ye  widout  a 
struggle  for  it.  So  I  moved  a  bit  away,  and  jist  waited. 

"The  time  seemed  long,  when  on  a  suddint  I  heard 
the  sodgers  sing  out,  and  then  fire  and  set  out  to  run.  I 
never  doubted  it  was  you,  and  so  off  I  went  behindt  them 
as  hard  as  I  could  tear.  I  wasn't  long  in  coming  up  to 
them,  and  at  first  I  thought  ye  would  get  clean  away. 
Then  my  heart  fell  when  I  saw  those  villains  attempt  to 
seize  ye,  but  when  I  thought  it  was  all  over  ye  turned 
sharp  off  and  made  for  the  river.  I  was  with  the  first  of 
them  to  get  there,  and  I  ran  accidental  against  the  first 


ORANGE  AND  GREEJT.  231 

sodger  who  got  his  musket  to  his  shoulder,  and  there  was 
no  saying  where  the  ball  went  to.  He  cursed  me  for  a 
clumsy  baste,  and  would  have  knocked  me  down,  but  he 
was  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  load  again. 

"I  saw  the  bullets  strike  the  water  close  to  you  when 
you  came  up  again.  I  saw  you  look  round,  and  guessed 
ye  was  thinking  what  was  the  best  thing  to  do.  Then 
we  saw  no  more  of  ye.  I  didn't  think  you  had  been  hit, 
for  I  saw  you  go  down  regular,  as  if  you  were  diving  in 
the  sea  for  pleasure,  and  not  sharp  as  you  would  have 
done  if  a  bullet  had  hit  you.  I  guessed  as  you  were 
meaning  to  swim  up  the  stream,  and  -I  did  the  only  thing 
I  could  to  stop  them  from  following  up  by  shouting  that 
I  saw  ye,  and  throwing  a  big  stone  into  the  water  close  to 
where  I  had  seen  your  head  before,  knowing  that  by  that 
time  ye  must  be  nigh  a  hundred  yards  up. 

"The  fools  didn't  stop  to  think,  but  they  took  to  throw- 
ing stones  and  firing  as  hard  as  they  could,  and  by  the 
time  they  had  done  I  knew,  if  you  were  alive,  ye  must  be 
night  a  quarter  of  a  mile  up  the  river.  Some  of  them 
did  run  up,  and  I  kept  with  them,  but  sorrah  a  glimpse 
of  ye  did  we  get.  At  last  every  one  made  sure  that  you 
were  kilt  entirely,  and  went  their  ways.  I  went  off  to 
our  lodgings,  but  took  good  care  not  to  go  in.  And  it 
was  well  I  didn't.  For  half  an  hour  later  a  troop  of 
sodgers  came  up,  and  some  of  them  went  in. 

"They  were  led  by  that  black  villain  who  used  to  come 
wid  messages  from  Mr.  O'Brian,  and  I  have  no  doubt  it 
was  he  who  set  the  sodgers  upon  you.  Anyhow,  they 
didn't  find  much  there,  but  four  of  them  waited  till 
morning  inside,  the  others  all  going  away,  so  that  if  you 
had  got  out  of  the  river  they  might  catch  ye  in  a  trap. 
I  waited  till  they  had  left  this  morning,  thinking,  I  sup- 
pose, that  it  was  no  use  to  stay  longer,  and  then  started 
to  see  if  your  honor  were  here. 


232  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"Sometimes  I  thought  I  should  find  you,  then  again  I 
tould  myself  that  if  you  had  been  alive  I  must  have  seen 
you  come  up  agin;  for,  knowing  the  strength  of  the 
stream  and  how  fast  you  could  swim,  I  could  tell  pretty 
nigh  about  where  you  would  come  up  if  you  were  keep- 
ing straight  up  the  river.  How  did  you  manage  it  at  all, 
Master  Walter?" 

"I  turned  and  swam  back  again  to  the  bank,  Larry.  I 
knew  every  one  would  be  watching  the  middle  of  the 
river,  and  would  not  be  looking  at  the  water  in  front  of 
them.  Of  course  the  stream  took  me  up  a  long  way.  I 
only  came  up  once,  on  my  back,  took  a  breath,  and  went 
down  again,  and  the  second  time  I  was  right  under  the 
bank  and  well  out  of  sight,  though  I  could  hear  them 
talking  above  me.  It  was  just  when  I  looked  round  then 
that  I  saw  them  throwing  stones  and  firing  into  the 
middle  of  the  river  two  hundred  yards  lower  down,  and 
after  that  I  had  only  to  keep  on  swimming  under  water 
close  to  the  bank." 

"And  that  is  how  ye  managed  it!  It  was  a  grand 
thought  entirely  to  swim  back  to  us.  I  never  thought  of 
that.  I  was  most  afraid  you  would  go  for  the  opposite 
shore,  and  there  were  plenty  had  gathered  there  ready  to 
seize  you.  I  didn't  think  I  could  have  missed  you  if 
you'd  kept  on  in  the  middle,  and  I  have  been  puzzled  al- 
together as  to  what  could  have  become  of  you  if  ye  were 
really  alive.  I  have  got  some  bread  in  my  bundle  here, 
and  a  bottle  of  spirits,  and  you  had  better  have  a  bite 
and  a  sup  before  we  go  on,  for  it's  pretty  nigh  as  white 
as  a  ghost  ye  are." 

The  meal  seemed  to  put  new  life  and  strength  into 
Walter,  and  after  its  conclusion  he  was  ready  to  step  out 
again  with  fresh  energy.  They  thought  it  better  at  cnce 
to  leave  the  road  and  tramp  across  the  country.  By  BO 
doing  they  avoided  all  parties  of  the  English  troops,  and 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  233 

reached  the  Irish  army  without  adventure.  Walter  at 
once  reported  himself  to  General  Sarsfteld,  and  related 
all  that  had  taken  place  in  Dublin. 

"You  have  done  excellently,  Mr.  Davenant,  and  your 
escape  from  capture  was  an  extraordinary  one.  Unfor- 
tunately the  betrayal  of  what  was  doing,  and  the  arrest 
of  our  friends,  is  likely  to  upset  all  the  plans  you  had 
arranged." 

"I  hope  not,  sir,"  Walter  said.  "I  know  that  they 
•<7ere  all  careful  to  have  no  written  documents,  for  it  was 
always  possible  that  the  houses  of  the  Catholics  might  be 
searched." 

"That  may  be  so,"  the  general  said;  "but  I  fear  that 
this  traitor  will  have  managed  to  overhear  some  of  the 
conversation;  and  the  fact  of  their  meeting  and  of  your 
escape  will  in  itself  tell  against  them  sufficiently  to  in- 
sure ^their  being  kept  in  prison  at  any  rate  for  a  consid- 
erable time,  and  even  if  released  they  would  be  suspected 
persons,  and  would  be  unable  to  make  the  slightest  move. " 

The  general's  previsions  were  justified.  The  whole  of 
those  arrested  were  retained  in  prison  for  some  months, 
and  no  such  general  rising  as  had  been  planned  was  ever 
carried  into  effect. 

During  the  winter  stores  and  ordnance  arrived  from 
France  for  the  supply  of  the  Irish  army,  and  from  Eng- 
land for  the  use  of  the  British,  and  a  great  number  of 
officers  from  the  Continent  also  joined  both  armies. 

The  discontent  among  the  Irish  at  the  apathy  of 
Prance  was  extreme.  They  had  embarked  in  the  war  on 
the  strength  of  the  promises  of  King  Louis.  None  of 
these  promises  had  been  fulfilled.  The  supplies  of  arms 
and  money  had  been  most  meager,  the  few  thousand 
troops  sent  had  never  taken  part  in  any  of  the  operations, 
and  their  coming  had  been  much  more  than  counter- 
balanced by  the  troops  sent  from  Ireland  in  exchange  for 


234  ORANQE  AND  GREEN. 

them.  An  additional  cause  of  discontent  was  given  by 
the  fact  that  William  exchanged  all  the  prisoners  taken 
in  Ireland  for  Dutch  prisoners  in  the  hands  of  Louiff,  and 
the  Irish  so  handed  over  were  all  incorporated  in  the 
French  army. 

So  great  was  the  discontent  that  had  a  proclamation 
of  pardon  and  protection  been  offered,  the  whole  Irish 
army  would  have  disbanded  and  all  resistance  ceased. 
But  Louis,  alarmed  at  finding  that  it  was  likely  William 
would  be  freed  from  his  troubles  at  home,  and  be  at 
liberty  to  give  his  whole  attention  to  the  war  on  the  Con- 
tinent, sent  fresh  promises  of  large  and  speedy  aid,  and 
dispatched  General  St.  Ruth  to  take  the  command  in 
Ireland  in  place  of  Lauzun,  who  had  returned  to  France. 

This  appointment  caused  fresh  discontent  among  the 
Irish.  Their  cause  had  already  been  well-nigh  ruined  by 
the  interference  and  incapacity  of  the  French  generals, 
and  on  the  retirement  of  Lauzun  they  had  confidently 
expected  that  Sarsfield  would  be  appointed  commander- 
in-chief,  and  that  henceforth  there  would  be  unity  of  de- 
sign in  their  operations.  St.  Ruth  was  accompanied  by 
a  large  number  of  young  French  officers,  whose  demeanor 
still  further  widened  the  breach  between  the  French  and 
Irish. 

St.  Ruth  at  once  inspected  the  army,  now  concentrated 
between  Limerick  and  Athlone.  Except  that  there  was 
a  great  deficiency  in  horses  for  the  cavalry  the  army  was 
greatly  improved  in  discipline  and  appearance  since  the 
battle  of  the  Boyne,  for  both  officers,  petty  officers,  and 
men  had  learned  their  duties.  The  army  had  passed  the 
winter  in  comfortable  quarters,  and  had  been  well  supplied 
with  food.  The  difficulty  was  to  find  horses.  The  Rap- 
parees  had  carried  off  many  of  the  charges  of  the  English 
cavalry  by  stratagem,  and  it  was  a  common  practice  of  the 
Danish  and  other  foreign  troops  to  sell  their  horses  to 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  235 

the  Irish  at  the  outposts  and  pretend  that  they  were 
stolen.  Still  the  supply  was  altogether  insufficient,  and 
St.  Ruth,  finding  that  he  could  not  get  horses  from  the 
enemy,  determined  to  take  them  from  his  friends. 

A  proclamation  was  accordingly  issued  inviting  all  the 
gentry  throughout  the  country  held  by  the  Irish  to  meet 
him  at  Limerick,  mounted  and  accoutered  in  the  best 
manner.  Keports  were  spread  that  an  important  com- 
munication was  to  be  made  to  the  gentlemen  of  the  coun- 
try from  King  James,  and  that  many  marks  of  honor  and 
distinction  were  to  be  conferred. 

Accordingly,  there  was  a  very  numerous  attendance  of 
gentry  on  the  day  fixed.  St.  Ruth  appeared  on  the 
ground  with  a  large  body  of  cavalry.  He  made  a  speech 
to  the  gentlemen — complimented  them  on  their  punctual 
attendance  and  gallant  appearance;  told  them  that  it 
was  necessary  that  every  man  should  make  sacrifices  for 
the  defense  of  his  religion  and  his  estates,  and  requested 
them  to  hand  over  their  horses  to  the  cavalry.  He  then 
at  once  rode  off  the  ground,  leaving  the  cavalry  to  take 
possession  of  the  horses.  Anger  and  expostulation  were 
useless,  and  the  gentlemen  had  to  return  on  foot,  sadder 
men;  but  the  army  obtained  a  large  and  valuable  addi- 
tion of  horses,  and  St.  Ruth  was  able  to  march  out  at  the 
head  of  twenty  thousand  foot  and  five  thousand  well- 
appointed  cavalry. 

Their  direction  was  Athlone,  toward  which  point 
Ginckle  was  also  directing  his  movements,  having  as- 
sembled his  whole  force  at  Mullingar,  withdrawing  the 
garrisons  from  almost  all  the  towns,  in  order  to  raise  his 
force  in  the  field.  The  alarm  in  Dublin  was,  in  conse- 
quence, extreme,  and  the  council  and  lords-justices  be- 
sought Ginckle  not  to  leave  them  without  protection; 
but  he  only  replied  that  they  had  it  in  their  own  power 
to  put  an  end  to  the  war  by  publishing  such  a  declaration 


836  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

of  pardon  and  security  for  person  and  property  as  would 
satisfy  the  Irish  in  James'  army.  But  the  council,  even 
in  this  moment  of  alarm,  refused  to  renounce  their 
golden  hopes  of  confiscation. 

Ginckle's  first  attack  was  directed  against  the  village 
of  Ballymore,  which  lay  between  Mullingar  and  Athlone. 
It  was  defended  by  a  thousand  cavalry  and  infantry,  and 
a  sergeant  and  a  few  men  were  posted  in  a  castle  on  an 
eminence  some  distance  from  the  village.  The  first  at- 
tack was  made  on  the  castle,  but  the  sergeant  and  his 
little  garrison  made  a  long  and  gallant  resistance,  and 
the  savage  Dutchman  was  so  infuriated  at  the  opposition 
that  when  at  last  the  post  was  taken  he  ordered  the  gal- 
lant sergeant  to  be  at  once  hung. 

He  then  sent  word  to  the  garrison  of  the  village  that  if 
they  did  not  surrender  he  would  serve  them  as  he  had 
served  the  sergeant.  They  were  unmoved  by  the  threat, 
and  made  a  long  and  gallant  defense  against  the  whole  of 
Ginckle's  army;  and  the  Dutch  general  was  unable  to 
overcome  their  resistance  till  he  at  last  offered  fair  terms 
of  surrender.  The  position  being  a  strong  and  impor- 
tant one,  Ginckle  spent  some  days  in  adding  to  the  de- 
fensive works  the  Irish  had  erected  before  he  moved  for- 
ward and  sat  down  in  front  of  Athlone.  His  army  was 
T/ell  provided  with  heavy  artillery  and  everything  neces- 
sary for  a  siege,  and  he  was  firmly  resolved  that  there 
should  be  no  repetition  of  the  disastrous  failure  of  the 
preceding  autumn. 


JOHN   RELIEVED  BY  WALTER  IN  THE   ROYALIST  CAMP. 


O&G 


QEANGE  AND  GREEN. ,  337 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ATHLONE. 

THE  Irith  had  this  time  determined  to  defend  not  only 
that  portion  of  Athlone  situated  on  the  west  of  the  river, 
hut  the  English  town  on  the  east.  The  fortifications 
here  were  repaired  and  added  to,  and  the  town  was 
abundantly  supplied  with  stores  and  ammunition.  It 
was,  however,  unable  to  resist  the  heavy  artillery  which 
Ginckle  brought  to  play  against  it.  Walls,  buildings, 
and  towers  crumbled  beneath  the  heavy  cannonade;  and 
although  the  Irish  repelled,  with  great  slaughter,  several 
assaults  upon  it,  the  place  became  at  last  untenable,  and 
they  abandoned  that  part  of  the  town  and  retired  by  the 
bridge  across  the  river  to  the  Irish  town. 

The  British,  on  entering  the  eastern  town,  found  it  a 
mere  mass  of  ruins,  with  the  dead  bodies  of  the  soldiers 
lying  everywhere,  half-covered  with  the  wreck  of  the 
works  they  had  died  in  defending.  The  taking  of  this 
portion  of  Athlone  had  cost  Ginckle  dearly,  and  he  was 
but  little  nearer  the  object  of  his  efforts,  for  he  was  sep- 
arated from  the  Irish  town  by  the  Shannon,  and  the 
western  arch  of  the  bridge  was  broken  down  by  the 
defenders. 

Eleven  large  guns  and  three  mortars  now  came  up 
from  Dublin,  and  he  erected  a  succession  of  batteries 
upon  the  ruins  of  the  English  town,  and  opened  fire  upon 
the  castle  of  Athlone,  which,  although  a  building  of 
great  strength,  soon  crumbled  into  ruins  beneath  the  fire 


238  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

of  the  heavy  artillery  brought  to  bear  upon  it.  A  mill 
which  :  stood  in  the  river,  and  was  connected  with  the 
bridge,  was  set  on  fire,  and  the  sixty  soldiers  posted  in  it, 
being  unable  to  escape,  were  all  burned.  Night  and  day 
seven  great  batteries  played  incessantly  upon  the  town. 

On  the  26th  of  June  thirty  wagons  loaded  with  powder 
and  a  hundred  carts  with  cannon-balls  arrived  from  Dub- 
lin, and  enabled  the  besiegers  to  keep  up  their  fire  with- 
out intermission.  The  interior  of  the  town  was  reduced 
to  ruins — nothing  remained  erect  save  the  city  walls,  in 
which  the  breaches,  as  fast  as  they  were  made,  were  re- 
paired by  the  Irish.  The  slaughter  among  those  so  em- 
ployed was  very  heavy;  but  there  was  no  lack  of  men, 
the  places  of  those  who  fell  being  at  once  supplied  by 
others  willing  to  give  their  lives  in  the  defense  of  the 
town. 

At  last  there  was  nothing  more  that  the  besiegers 
could  do.  The  town  was  reduced  to  ashes,  but  the  river 
and  the  broken  arch  still  separated  them  from  the  ruins. 
To  remain  much  longer  where  they  were  was  impossible, 
for  the  country  on  every  side  was  exhausted,  and  no 
longer  afforded  food  for  man  or  horse.  The  country  peo- 
ple had  fled  from  the  cruelty  and  spoliation  of  Ginckle's 
foreign  soldiery,  carrying  with  them  all  their  effects;  and 
the  Irish  light  troops  and  armed  peasantry  hovered 
round  the  camp,  laid  the  country,  waste,  and  intercepted 
their  supplies  and  communications  with  Dublin. 

Ginckle  held  a  council  of  war  to  consider  what  was  to 
be  done.  It  was  admitted  that  they  must  force  the  pas- 
Gage  of  the  river  without  loss  of  time,  or  submit  to  the 
alternative  of  retreat  and  the  utter  failure  of  the  cam- 
paign. It  was  finally  resolved  to  attempt  the  passage  of 
the  bridge  by  throwing  a  wooden  gallery  over  the  broken 
arch,  and  forcing  their  way  across  at  all  cost.  Additional 
batteries  were  now  raised  on  the  bank  of 'the  river,  and  a 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  239 

teavy  fire  was  poured,  without  intermission,  upon  the 
Irish  on  their  side  of  the  broken  arch. 

Both  parties  had  erected  a  breastwork  on  the  bridge  at 
their  respective  sides  of  the  breach,  and  from  behind  this, 
day  and  night,  a  continued  musketry  fire  was  kept  up, 
the  grenadiers  of  the  English  army  throwing  grenades 
into  the  enemy's  works.  After  some  days  the  breast- 
work on  the  Irish  side  was  set  on  fire  by  the  continued 
assault  of  shot  and  grenades.  The  wattles  of  which  it 
was  composed,  dried  by  the  hot  weather,  were  soon  in  a 
blaze,  and  under  cover  of  the  flames  and  smoke  the  Eng- 
lish ran  forward  the  great  beams  they  had  prepared  in 
readiness,  and  threw  them  across  the  gap  in  the  bridge. 

The  fire  from  all  the  batteries  on  the  English  side  was 
directed  against  the  burning  breastwork,  while  the 
grenadiers  hastened  to  lay  planks  across  the  beams  to 
complete  the  bridge.  The  work  was  well-nigh  done  when 
an  Irish  sergeant  and  ten  men,  all  clad  in  armor,  leaped 
through  the  flames  of  the  breastwork,  and  began  to  hew 
with  their  axes  at  the  beams  and  planks. 

For  a  moment  the  British  were  paralyzed  at  the  daring; 
action.  Then  the  batteries  and  musketry  fire  again 
opened,  a  storm  of  shot  and  bullets  swept  across  the 
bridge,  and  the  whole  of  the  gallant  fellows  fell  dead, 
but  in  a  moment  another  party,  similarly  armed,  dashed 
through  the  flames  and  took  their  places. 

Eegardless  of  the  fire  they  whirled  their  axes.  Nine 
fell,  but  the  last  two  gave  the  final  stroke  to  the  beams; 
the  bridge  fell  with  a  crash  into  the  river  below,  and  the 
two  survivors  recrossed  the  breastwork  and  joined  their 
friends  within  amid  the  wild  enthusiasm  of  the  defend- 
ers; an  enthusiasm  in  which  even  the  baffled  assailants 
joined,  for  the  British  grenadiers  gave  a  cheer  in  token 
of  their  admiration  at  the  gallantry  and  devotion  of  the 
deed. 


340  ORAWB  AND  QREEN. 

In  all  history  there  is  no  record  of  a  more  gallant  action 
than  this,  performed  by  two  sergeants  and  twenty  men, 
who  thus  encountered  almost  certain  death  to  maintain 
their  post.  The  destruction  of  the  temporary  bridge  filled 
Ginckle  and  his  officers  with  consternation,  and  the 
manner  in  which  their  design  had  been  baffled  showed 
the  spirit  of  the  defenders  and  the  magnitude  of  the  task 
which  they  had  undertaken;  but  it  was  resolved  at 
another  council  which  was  called  to  attempt  one  more 
effort  before  abandoning  the  enterprise.  A  finished  plat- 
form was  constructed.  This  was  to  be  thrown  over  the 
arch,  and  a  chosen  body  of  the  bravest  troops  in  the  army 
were  to  throw  themselves  across  and  try  to  force  a  pas- 
sage. At  the  same  time  a  division  was  to  cross  the  river 
by  a  ford  near  the  bridge,  and  another  to  attempt  to 
cross  by  a  bridge  of  pontoons  prepared  in  readiness. 

The  Irish  were  informed,  by  French  deserters,  of  what 
was  going  on  in  the  English  camp,  and  early  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  assault  several  strong  divisions  of  the  Irish 
army  were  seen  marching  down  from  the  camp  two  miles 
away  into  the  town.  Here  they  were  drawn  up  .in  readi- 
ness to  repulse  the  assault. 

The  British  were  some  time  before  they  were  ready  for 
the  attack,  but  at  ten  o'clock  the  whole  army  stood  in 
close  order  ready  to  advance.  The  first  to  move  forward 
were  those  who  were  to  carry  the  bridge.  The  Irish 
guns,  which  still  remained  intact,  opened  upon  them, 
but  they  pressed  forward  along  the  bridge  to  the  broken 
arch,  and,  with  less  trouble  than  had  been  anticipated, 
threw  the  platform  across  it.  Instead  of  rushing  forward 
at  once  the  grenadiers  stood  behind  their  breastwork  and 
hurled  their  grenades  at  the  Irish  grenadiers,  who  stood 
in  close  order  on  the  opposite  edge. 

These,  however,  stood  their  ground  and  hurled  their 
grenades  with  great  effect  into  the  column.  One  of 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  341 

these  exploded  against  the  English  breastwork  and  set  it 
on  fire.  It  at.  once  blazed  up;  a  strong  west  wind  was 
blowing  and  drove  the  smoke  and  flames  into  the  faces  of 
the  English  grenadiers,  who  for  some  time  strove  in  vain 
to  extinguish  the  flames,  notwithstanding  the  heavy  fire 
which  the  defenders  poured  into  them.  They  had  at  last 
to  fall  back,  and  the  Irish,  sallying  from  behind  their 
breastwork,  pulled  down  the  burning  timbers  on  to  the 
bridge,  which  was  soon  in  flames. 

The  other  divisions  of  the  English  army,  finding  that 
the  grenadiers  on  the  bridge  made  no  progress,  did  not 
attempt  to  perform  their  part  of  -the  work,  and  finally 
the  whole  retreated  to  their  camp.  That  evening 
another  council  of  war  was  held.  Matters  now  looked 
desperate,  and  the  fact  that  the  enterprise  had  this  time 
failed  owing  to  the  hesitation  of  the  troops  to  push  for- 
ward to  the  attack  of  the  enemy,  made  the  prospect  appear 
more  hopeless.  Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of 
Generals  Ginckle  and  Mackey  the  council  determined 
that  one  more  attempt  should  be  made,  and  that  this 
should  be  carried  out  at  daylight  next  morning  in  the 
hopes  of  taking  the  Irish  by  surprise. 

It  was  accordingly  given  out  that  the  army  would  re- 
treat in  the  morning,  and  the  heavy  guns  were  withdrawn 
from  the  batteries.  St.  Ruth,  who  was  convinced  that 
Athlone  could  not  be  taken,  and  who  had  spent  the 
greater  portion  of  his  time  in  entertaining  tho  ladies  and 
gentry  of  the  neighborhood  with  balls  and.  fetes,  fell  into 
the  trap,  and,  contrary  to  the  opinion  and  advice  of  the 
Irish  generals,  recalled  from  the  town  the  regiments 
which  had  marched  in  that  morning  and  replaced  them 
with  only  three  battalions  of  inferior  troops. 

The  Irish  officers  remonstrated  warmly,  but  St.  Ruth, 
to  show  his  disdain  for  their  opinions,  invited  a  large 
party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  to  an  entertainment  in  the 


243  :  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

evening.  In  the  night  the  British  army  prepared  for  the 
attack;  the  commanders  of  the  respective  divisions  all 
led  their  troops  in  person.  The  garrison  of  the  town 
were  all  asleep.  In  St.  Kuth's  camp  the  festivities  were 
over,  and  the  general  and  his  officers  had  retired.  The 
Irish  sentinels,  who  noted  the  movement  in  the  British 
camp,  supposed  that  they  were  mustering  to  retreat,  and 
thus  the  three  British  columns  drew  up  inside  the  town 
wall  in  readiness  to  advance,  without  a  notion  of  their 
purpose  being  entertained  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river. 

One  column,  headed  by  sixty  chosen  men  in  complete 
armor,  was  to  cross  the  bridge  and  throw  a  platform  over 
the  arch;  another  to  cross  by  the  ford;  the  third  by  a 
pontoon  bridge.  When  the  church  bell  tolled  six  the 
three  columns  advanced  simultaneously,  and  before  the 
Irish  were  thoroughly  awake,  the  leading  battalions  had 
forded  the  river,  the  platform  was  in  its  place,  and  the 
troops  pouring  into  the  town. 

A  few  guns  were  hastily  discharged,  and  then  the  men 
of  the  three  Irish  regiments  in  the  town  fled  in  haste  to 
avoid  capture  by  the  columns  pouring  across  the  river  by 
the  ford  and  pontoon  bridge.  Many  indeed  were  cap- 
tured while  asleep.  St.  Euth,  roused  from  sleep  by  the 
sound  of  cannon,  ordered  the  troops  to  arms,  but  it  was 
too  late.  The  town,  or  rather  its  ruins,  were  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  British,  and  the  brilliant  success  which  had 
been  won  by  the  valor  and  determination  of  the  Irish 
troops  was  forfeited  by  the  carelessness,  folly,  and  self- 
confidence  of  the  French  general. 

Had  he  listened  to  the  advice  of  the  Irish  officers  the 
attempt,  like  those  which  had  preceded  it,  must  have 
failed,  and  in  that  case  there  was  nothing  remained  to 
Ginckle  but  a  precipitous  retreat  to  Dublin,  with  the  loss 
of  the  whole  of  the  advantages  gained  in  the  previous 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  243 

campaign  and  the  necessity  of  bringing  the  war  to  an  end 
by  the  concession  of  the  rights  and  privileges  of  the  Irish 
Catholics  and  landowners. 

The  whole  course  of  history  was  changed  by  the  folly 
of  one  man.  Ginckle  had  taken  Athlone,  but  it  was  at  a 
vast  cost  of  life,  and  he  was  more  than  ever  impressed 
•with  the  magnitude  of  the  task  of  subduing  Ireland  so 
long  as  the  people  were  driven  to  desperation  by  the 
threatened  confiscation  of  all  their  lands  and  by  the  per- 
secution of  their  religion.  King  William  too  was  more 
anxious  than  ever  for  the  termination  of  hostilities,  and 
on  the  very  day  that  the  news  of  the  fall  of  Athlone 
reached  him  he  issued  a  proclamation  offering  protection, 
security  of  all  possessions,  and  continuance  in  any  offices 
which  they  held  under  James,  to  all  who  would  lay  down 
their  arms  in  three  weeks'  time. 

The  issue  of  such  a  proclamation  as  this  a  year  before 
would  have  satisfied  the  Irish  and  put  a  stop  to  the  war; 
but  it  was  now  too  late.  The  promises  made  had  been 
broken  over  and  over  again,  and  the  Irish  had  but  too 
much  reason  to  fear  that  when  all  opposition  ceased  the 
council  and  their  train  of  greedy  adherents  would  again 
obtain  the  ascendency,  and  would  continue  their  work  of 
spoliation  and  robbery.  Moreover,  the  Irish  army  did 
not  feel  itself  in  any  way  beaten.  It  was  not  its  fault 
that  the  second  siege  of  Athlone  had  not  terminated  as 
the  former  siege  and  that  of  Limerick  had  done,  and  that 
Ginckle's  army  was  not  hurrying  back  defeated  and  dis- 
organized to  Dublin.  They  felt  that  at  the  battle  of  the 
Boyne  they  had  suffered  no  defeat,  although,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  general  plan,  they  had  fallen  back,  and 
they  eagerly  desired  to  fight  one  battle  to  prove  that  in 
the  open  field  they  were  more  than  a  match  for  the  mer- 
cenaries of  King  William.  The  council  and  lords-jus- 
tices, who  were  aghast  at  the  proclamation  which  threat- 


244  ORANGE  ANU  GREEN. 

ened  to  destroy  their  hopes  of  dividing  among  them- 
selves and  their  friends  all  the  lands  of  the  Catholics  of 
Ireland,  did  their  best  to  prevent  its  acceptance  by 
spreading  rumors  that  it  was  a  mere  bait,  and  that  its 
promises  would  not  be  fulfilled,  while  St.  Ruth  and  his 
French  officers  did  their  best  also  to  set  the  Irish  against 
it. 

St.  Ruth,  who  was  really  a  good  officer,  was  conscious 
that,  so  far  from  having  gained  credit  as  he  had  expected 
from  a  command  in  Ireland,  the  misfortunes  which  had 
happened  were  entirely  attributed  to  him,  and  he  longed 
for  an  opportunity  of  wiping  out  the  slur  on  his  military 
reputation.  He  therefore  urged  upon  the  Irish  generals 
that  Ginckle  had  indeed  gained  but  little;  that  all  the 
hopes  of  William  rested  upon  that  army  alone;  and  that 
with  its  defeat  they  could  demand  and  obtain  any  terms 
they  liked  to  lay  down;  besides  which  he  was  able  to  as- 
sure them  by  his  advices  from  France  that  Louis  was 
making  preparations  for  assisting  them  on  a  vastly  larger 
scale  than  he  had  previously  done.  Thus  from  a  com- 
bination of  circumstances  the  proclamation  elicited  no 
response. 

While  the  siege  of  Athlone  was  being  carried  on  the 
main  body  of  Sarsfield's  cavalry  remained  for  the  most 
part  in  the  camp  near  the  town,  but  commanders  of 
small  bodies  of  men  like  the  corps  of  Captain  Davenant, 
which  were  regarded  as  irregulars,  had  liberty  of  action. 
Some  made  long  raids  to  the  east  and  often  spread  con- 
fusion and  dismay  among  the  enemy  by  appearing  sud- 
denly when  no  Irish  troops  were  believed  to  be  within  a 
hundred  miles.  Some  went  down  and  joined  the  peas-, 
ants,  who  were  keeping  up  desultory  fighting  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Cork,  harassing  the  English  whenever 
they  moved  from  one  point  to  another,  or  sent  out  parties 
to  collect  forage  or  provisions.  Captain  Davenant,  who 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  245 

had  more  than  once  respectfully  urged  upon  Sarsfield  the 
immense  benefit  which  would  result  were  the  whole  of 
the  Irish  cavalry  to  place  themselves  upon  the  line  of  the 
enemy's  communication,  finding  that  the  Irish  general 
was  unmoved  by  his  arguments,  several  times  endeavored 
to  carry  out  his  ideas  as  far  as  could  be  done  with  his 
own  small  force. 

The  inactivity  of  the  Irish  horse  throughout  the  long 
sieges  of  Athlone  and  Limerick,  except  only  upon  the 
occasion  of  the  raid  upon  the  siege-train,  is  almost  inex- 
plicable. They  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the  enemy's 
cavalry,  to  whom  they  proved  themselves  immensely 
superior  whenever  they  met  during  the  war,  and  they  had 
it  in  their  power  for  months  to  cut  the  British  communi- 
cations and  so  oblige  them  either  to  detach  so  large  a 
force  to  keep  the  roads  open  that  they  would  have  been 
unable  to  push  on  the  siege,  and  would  indeed  have  been 
in  danger  of  being  attacked  and  destroyed  by  the  Irish 
infantry,  or  to  raise  the  siege  and  fall  back  upon  their 
bases,  Dublin  and  Waterford. 

The  only  possible  explanations  that  can  be  offered  are 
— first,  that  Sarsfield,  although  a  dashing  commander  in 
action,  was  possessed  of  no  military  genius  whatever; 
second,  that  he  was  prevented  from  moving  by  the  jeal- 
ousy of  the  French  commanders-in-chief,  who  did  not 
wish  to  see  the  credit  of  compelling  the  [enemy  to  fall 
back  monopolized  by  the  Irish  cavalry;  or,  third,  that 
Sarsfield  saw  the  advantages  which  could  be  obtained  by 
throwing  himself,  with  his  cavalry,  in  the  rear  of  the 
enemy,  but  deliberately  remained  inactive  rather  than 
leave  the  French  generals  to  act  unchecked  by  his  pres- 
ence at  headquarters.  It  can  never  be  decided  to  which 
of  these  alternatives  it  was  due  that  the  Irish  cavalry  re- 
mained for  so  long  a  time  inactive,  and  that  William,  and 
after  him  Ginckle,  were  permitted  unmolested,  save  by  a 


346  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

few  detached  bodies  of  horse,  to  maintain  their  long  line 
of  communications  to  their  base  unchecked. 

Upon  one  of  his  excursions  in  the  rear  of  the  English 
army  Captain  Davenant's  troops  dashed  down  upon  a 
convoy  of  wagons.  The  dragoons  who  were  escorting 
them  were  killed  or  driven  off.  The  drivers  were  col- 
lected in  a  group,  for  Captain  Davenant  always  ordered 
that  these  men  should  not  be  injured,  as  they  were  not 
combatants,  and  were  in  most  cases  obliged  to  accompany 
their  teams,  which  had  been  requisitioned  for  the  service. 
The  men  were  collecting  the  wagons  together  preparatory 
to  setting  them  on  fire,  when  Walter,  on  riding  near  the 
group  of  drivers,  heard  himself  called  by  name.  Turn- 
ing round  he  leaped  from  his  horse  and  ran  up  to  one  of 
the  prisoners. 

"My  dear  John!"  he  exclaimed,  "I  am  glad  indeed  to 
see  you.  Why,  what  brings  you  here?" 

After  exchanging  hearty  greetings  Walter  led  him 
away  from  the  group,  and  the  two  sat  down  together  on 
a  bank. 

"What  brings  you  here?"  Walter  repeated. 

"All  the  wagons  within  miles  round  Dublin  have  been 
requisitioned,"  John  said;  "and  as  our  three  were  called 
for,  my  father  suggested  that  I  should  accompany  them 
to  see  that  the  horses  were  fed  and  cared  for." 

"Which  are  your  wagons?"  Walter  asked. 

"The  three  last  in  the  column." 

Walter  immediately  ran  to  his  father,  told  him  what 
had  happened,  and  begged  that  the  three  wagons  should 
be  exempted  from  the  general  destruction.  Captain 
Davenant  at  once  rode  up  to  the  men  and  ordered  the 
wagons  to  be  unloaded  and  their  contents  added  to  the 
pyre  which  was  being  prepared,  but  that  the  wagons 
themselves  should  be  taken  back  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
along  the  road,  and  left  there  under  the  charge  of  their 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  847 

drivers,  who  were  not  to  move  until  joined  by  their 
owner.  He  then  rode  back  and  shook  hands  with  John. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  he  said.  "All  are  well,  I 
hope,  at  both  our  homes?" 

"Quite  well,  sir." 

"Thank  God  for  that!  Now  I  must  leave  you  to  see 
that  our  work  is  thoroughly  carried  out.  You  will  find 
your  wagons  safe  a  quarter  of  a  mile  along  the  road.  I 
will  leave  you  to  tell  all  the  home  news  to  Walter,  who 
will  retell  it  to  me  afterward." 

"Now  tell  me  all  the  news,"  Walter  said  when  they 
were  together  again. 

"The  news  is  not  altogether  pleasant,"  John  replied. 
"The  whole  of  the  country  round  Dublin  is  being  harried 
by  the  cavalry  in  garrison  there.  They  pay  no  attention 
whatever  to  papers  of  protection,  and  care  but  little 
whether  those  they  plunder  are  Protestant  or  Catholic, 
friend  or  foe.  They  go  about  in  small  parties  like  bands 
of  brigands  through  the  country;  and  those  who  go  to 
Dublin  to  obtain  redress  for  their  exactions  are  received 
with  indifference,  and  sometimes  with  insult,  by  the 
authorities.  Then,  too,  we  have  had  trouble  at  home. 

"My  grandfather  became  more  bigoted  than  ever,  and 
would,  if  he  had  the  power,  have  annihilated  every  Cath- 
olic in  Ireland.  My  father  and  he  had  frequent  quarrels, 
and  I  was  in  daily  expectation  of  an  open  breach  between 
them,  and  of  my  father  giving  up  his  share  of  the  prop- 
erty and  taking  us  to  England.  He  was  a  backslider  in 
my  grandfather's  eyes.  The  tales  of  battle,  plunder, 
and  murder  seemed  to  have  taken  the  latter  back  to  his 
own  fighting  days;  and  he  was  rather  inclined  to  consider 
the  generals  as  lukewarm  than  to  join  in  the  general  in- 
dignation at  their  atrocious  conduct. 

"Even  the  sufferings  of  the  Protestants  did  not  seem 
to  affect  him.  The  Lord's  work,  he  said,  cannot  be  car- 


248  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

ried  on  without  victims.  It  horrified  me  to  hear  him 
talk.  If  this  was  the  religion  of  our  fathers,  I  was  fast 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  little  better  than  no 
religion  at  all. 

"I  think  my  father  and  mother  saw  it  in  the  same 
light,  and  the  breach  between  them  and  my  grandfather 
daily  widened.  But  I  have  not  told  you  the  worst  yet. 
A  party  of  cavalry  rode  up  the  other  day,  and  were  about, 
as  usual,  to  seize  upon  some  cattle.  My  father  was  out, 
and  my  grandfather  stepped  forward  and  asked  them 
'how  they  could  lay  it  to  their  consciences  to  plunder 
Protestants  when,  a  mile  or  two  away,  there  were  Catho- 
lics lording  it  over  the  soil — Catholics  whose  husbands 
and  sons  were  fighting  in  the  ranks  of  the  army  of  James 
Stuart?' 

"I  was  in  the  house  with  my  mother,  but  we  heard 
what  was  said;  and  she  whispered  to  me  to  slip  out  be- 
hind and  find  my  father  and  tell  him  what  was  being 
done.  I  made  off;  but  before  I  had  gone  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  I  saw  the  soldiers  riding  off  toward  the  castle,  with 
my  grandfather  riding  at  their  head.  I  was  not  long  in 
finding  my  father, who  at  once  called  the  men  off  from  their 
work  and  sent  them  off  in  all  directions  to  raise  the  coun- 
try; and  in  an  hour  two  hundred  men,  armed  with  any 
weapon  they  could  snatch  up,  were  marching  toward  the 
castle,  my  father  at  their  head.  There  were  Catholics 
and  Potestants  among  them — the  latter  had  come  at  my 
father's  bidding,  the  former  of  their  own  free-will. 

"We  hurried  along,  anxiously  fearing  every  moment 
to  see  flames  rise  from  the  castle.  Fortunately  the  sol- 
diers were  too  busy  in  plundering  to  notice  our  ap- 
proach, and  we  pounced  down  upon  them  and  seized 
them  unawares.  They  were  stripping  the  place  of  every- 
thing worth  carrying  away  before  setting  it  on  fire.  We 
burst  into  the  hall,  and  there  was  a  sight  which  filled  my 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  249 

father  and  myself  with  anger  and  shame.  Your  grand- 
mother was  standing  erect  looking  with  dignity  mingled 
with  disdain  at  my  grandfather;  while  your  mother,  hold- 
ing your  brother's  hands,  stood  beside  her.  My  grand- 
father was  standing  upon  a  chair;  in  his  hand  he  held  a 
Bible,  and  was  pouring  out  a  string  of  denouncing  texts 
at  the  ladies,  and  was  at  the  moment  we  entered  compar- 
ing them  to  the  wicked  who  had  fallen  into  a  net. 

"I  don't  think,  Walter,  his  senses  are  quite  right  now. 
He  is  crazed  with  religion  and  hate,  and  I  believe  at  the 
time  he  fancied  himself  in  the  meeting-house.  Anyhow 
there  he  was,  while  two  sergeants  who  were  supposed  to 
be  in  command  of  the  troop  were  sitting  on  a  table,  with 
a  flagon  of  wine  between  them,  looking  on  with  amuse- 
ment. Their  expression  changed  pretty  quickly  when 
we  rushed  in. 

"It  needed  all  my  father's  efforts  to  prevent  the  whole 
party  being  hung,  so  furious  were  all  the  rescuers  at  the 
outrage  upon  the  good  ladies  of  the  castle.  But  my 
father  pointed  out  to  them  that  although  such  a  punish- 
ment was  well  deserved,  it  would  do  harm  rather  than 
good  to  the  ladies.  They  had  orders  of  protection  from 
the  lords-justices;  and  he  should  proceed  at  once,  with 
four  or  five  witnesses,  to  lay  the  matter  before  the  gen- 
eral at  Dublin  and  demand  the  punishment  of  the  offend- 
ers. But  if  the  party  took  the  law  into  their  own  hands 
and  meted  out  the  punishment  the  fellows  deserved,  the 
facts  of  the  case  would  be  lost  sight  of;  there  would  be  a 
cry  of  vengeance  for  the  murder,  as  it  would  be  called, 
of  a  party  of  soldiers,  and  it  would  serve  as  an  excuse  for 
harrying  the  whole  district  with  fire  and  sword. 

"Having  at  last  persuaded  the  angry  tenants  and  peas- 
antry to  lay  aside  their  project  of  vengeance,  my  father 
went  to  the  soldiers,  who,  tied  hand  and  foot,  were  ex- 
pecting nothing  short  of  death.  He  ordered  all  their 


250  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

pistols  and  ammunition  to  be  taken  away  and  their  bonds 
to  be  loosed;  then  told  them  that  their  escape  had  been 
a  narrow  one,  and  that  with  great  difficulty  he  had  per- 
suaded those  who  had  captured  them  while  engaged  in 
deeds  of  outrage  and  plunder  to  spare  them;  but  that  a 
complaint  would  at  once  be  made  before  the  military 
authorities,  and  the  law  would  deal  with  them.  Finally 
they  were  permitted  to  mount  and  ride  off,  after  having 
been  closely  examined  to  see  that  they  were  taking  with 
them  none  of  the  plunder  of  the  house. 

"Everything  was  then  carefully  replaced  as  they  had 
found  it;  and  my  father  at  once  rode  off  with  six  of  the 
leading  tenants — three  Protestants  and  three  Catholics — 
and  laid  a  complaint  before  the  general.  The  latter  pro- 
fessed himself  much  shocked,  and  lamented  the  impossi- 
bility of  keeping  strict  discipline  among  the  various  regi- 
ments stationed  in  the  towns.  However,  he  went  down 
with  them  at  once  to  the  barracks  of  the  regiment, 
ordered  them  to  be  formed  up,  and  asked  my  father  if 
he  could  identify  the  culprits. 

"My  father  and  those  with  him  picked  out  fifteen,  in- 
cluding the  two  sergeants,  as  having  formed  part  of  the 
body  of  plunderers;  and  the  general  had  the  whole  tied  up 
and  flogged  severely  then  and  there,  and  declared  that 
the  next  time  an  outrage  upon  persons  who  had  received 
letters  of  protection  came  to  his  ears,  he  would  shoot 
every  man  who  was  proved  to  have  been  concerned  in  it. 
He  also  gave  orders  that  a  well-conducted  non-commis- 
eioned  officer  and  four  men  should  be  sent  at  once  to 
Davenant  Castle,  and  should  there  take  up  their  quarters 
as  a  guard  against  any  party  of  marauders,  with  the 
strictest  orders  to  cause  no  annoyance  or  inconvenience 
to  the  inhabitants  of  the  castle. 

"I  learned  afterward  that  Mr.  Conyers,  who  had  been 
interesting  himself  greatly  on  behalf  of  the  ladies  of  the 


ORANGE  AND  uREEN. 

castle,  is  a  great  friend  of  the  lords-justices  and  other 
members  of  the  council,  and  is  also  acquainted  with  the 
general,  which  will  account  for  the  prompt  measures 
taken  to  punish  the  marauders — a  very  rare  and  excep- 
tional matter,  I  can  tell  you." 

"I  am  sure  we  are  greatly  indebted  to  your  father  and 
you  for  so  promptly  taking  measures  to  assist  my 
mother,"  Walter  said.  "I  have  no  doubt  the  castle 
would  have  been  burned  as  well  as  plundered  if  it  had 
not  been  for  your  rescue  of  them." 

"It  is  not  worth  thinking  about,  Walter.  We  are 
heavily  your  debtors  still  for  the  kindness  of  your  father 
and  yourself  to  me  at  Derry,  and  indeed  on  all  other  oc- 
casions; besides,  it  was  the  least  we  could  do,  seeing  that 
it  was  my  grandfather's  hatred  of  your  family  which 
brought  the  matter  about." 

"What  became  of  your  grandfather,"  Walter  asked, 
"when  you  interrupted  his  sermon?" 

"He  fell  down  in  a  fit,"  John  replied;  "and  perhaps  it 
was  the  best  thing  he  could  do,  for  I  don't  know  what 
my  father  and  he  would  have  said  to  each  other  had  it 
not  been  so.  He  was  carried  home,  and  he  has  not  been 
the  same  man  since.  I  don't  think  the  subject  was  ever 
alluded  to  between  my  father  and  him;  but  I  think  that, 
being  balked  just  at  the  moment  when  he  thought  he 
had  obtained  the  object  of  his  hopes  and  prayers  for  the 
last  forty  years,  has  almost  broken  his  heart. 

"He  goes  about  the  house  scarce  speaking  a  word,  and 
seems  to  have  lost  almost  all  his  energy.  He  has  ceased 
to  read  the  family  prayers  and  to  hold  forth  morning  and 
night.  I  do  think  he  considers  that  the  Lord  has  cheated 
him  out  of  his  lawful  vengeance.  It  is  awfully  sad, 
Walter,  though  it  is  strange,  to  see  such  a  travesty  of 
religion  as  the  tenets  of  my  grandfather  and  some  of  the 


252  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

old  men  who,  like  him,  represent  the  viewa  of  Crom- 
well's soldiers. 

"Their  religion  cannot  be  called  true  Christianity.  It 
is  the  Judaism  of  the  times  when  the  Jews  were  among 
the  most  ignorant  of  peoples.  To  me  it  is  most  shock- 
ing, and  I  would  infinitely  rather  be  a  Mohammedan 
than  hold  such  a  faith  as  theirs.  I  thank  God  that  my 
father  and  mother  have  shaken  off  such  a  yoke,  and 
brought  me  up  according  to  the  teaching  of  the  New 
Testament  rather  than  that  of  the  Old." 

By  this  time  the  wagons,  with  the  exception  of  those 
under  John  Whitefoot's  charge,  had  been  collected  in  a 
mass,  and  fire  had  been  applied  to  them.  They  were 
now  a  pile  of  flame.  A  few  of  the  best  and  fastest-look- 
ing of  the  horses  were  set  aside  to  be  carried  off  by  the 
troop.  The  rest  were  shot,  as  the  great  object  of  the 
raids  was  to  deprive  the  English  army  of  its  means  of 
transport.  The  troop  then  mounted.  Captain  Daven- 
ant  and  Walter  took  a  hearty  farewell  of  John,  and  in- 
trusted him  with  hastily-written  letters  for  home;  and  aa 
the  smoke  of  the  burning  train  would  soon  bring  down 
any  parties  of  the  enemy  who  happened  to  be  in  the 
neighborhood,  the  troop  then  rode  off  at  full  speed,  and 
arrived  safely  at  Athlone  without  meeting  with  any  fur- 
ther adventures. 

After  the  fall  of  the  city  Ginckle  remained  inactive 
some  time,  but  finding  that  his  proclamation  had  no 
effect  in  inducing  the  Irish  to  lay  down  their  arms  he  re- 
luctantly prepared  to  advance  against  them.  In  the  in- 
terval he  occupied  himself  in  repairing  the  western  wall 
of  the  city,  and  as  he  had  been  joined  by  several  regi- 
ments sent  out  to  reinforce  him,  he  resumed  his  advance 
with  a  force  larger  than  that  with  which  he  had  com- 
menced the  siege  of  Athlone.  Before  starting  he  issued 
the  most  peremptory  orders  against  a  repetition  of  the 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  863 

acts  which  had  so  disgraced  his  army,  and  had  done  so 
much  harm  to  the  cause  by  banding  the  whole  peasantry 
against  them. 

St.  Euth  chose  his  position  with  great  skill.  His  camp 
extended  more  than  two  miles  along  a  range  of  hills 
called  the  heights  of  Kilcomeden;  his  right  was  protected 
by  a  rivulet  and  by  hills  and  marshes,  on  his  left  was  a 
deep  glen;  beyond  this,  along  his  whole  front,  a  vast  bog 
extended,  in  most  places  impassable  for  horse  or  foot. 
On  the  borders  of  the  bog  on  the  left  stood  the  ruins  of 
the  little  castle  of  Aughrim,  occupying  the  only  spot  of 
firm  ground  which  led  to  the  camp. 

To  pass  the  bog  at  this  point  it  was  necessary  to  go 
close  by  the  castle  wall,  where  there  was  a  broken  path 
only  wide  enough  for  two  men  to  pass  abreast.  The  pas- 
sage on  the  right  of  the  bog  was  more  open,  but  it  was 
marshy  and  unsafe.  This  position  was  much  stronger 
than  that  which  the  Irish  had  held  at  the  battle  of  the 
Boyne,  and  whereas  on  that  occasion  they  had  been  very 
inferior  in  numbers  to  their  assailants,  they  were  now 
superior  by  some  regiments  in  number.  In  the  point  of 
artillery  the  English  had  here,  as  at  the  Boyne,  an  over- 
whelming superiority. 

Ginckle  moved  forward  slowly  and  with  caution,  halt- 
ing on  the  river  Suck  until  he  had  been  joined  by  every 
Available  soldier  in  Ireland. 

On  the  morning  of  the  12th  of  July  the  British  army 
halted  on  the  edge  of  the  bog,  that  like  a  great  belt  en- 
circled the  Irish  within  it.  The  morning  was  foggy,  and 
the  mist  did  not  clear  off  until  toward  noon.  The  Irish 
prepared  for  battle  by  having  divine  service  performed  at 
the  head  of  their  regiments,  and  Dr.  Stafford,  chaplain 
to  the  royal  regiment  of  foot,  and  some  other  priests, 
passed  through  the  ranks,  urging  upon  the  men  their 
duty  and  obligation  as  soldiers  and  Irishmen  to  make 


354  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

every  effort  they  could  to  rescue  their  country  from  the 
oppression  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  and  his  army  of 
foreigners. 

Ginckle,  on  his  part,  as  at  Athlone,  distributed  money 
among  the  troops,  and  promised  them  the  plunder  of  the 
enemy's  camp.  As  the  day  cleared  up  the  British  army 
was  put  in  motion,  and  a  strong  column  advanced  against 
the  enemy's  right,  where  stood  the  house  and  grounds  of 
Urachree,  occupied  by  some  Irish  horse.  A  strong  de- 
tachment of  Danish  cavalry  headed  the  British  column. 
They  moved  forward  boldly,  quickening  their  pace  as  they 
approached  the  Irish;  but  on  the  latter  charging  them  at 
full  gallop  they  wheeled  about  and  rode  off  at  once  in 
disorder. 

Ginckle  immediately  ordered  two  hundred  of  Cunning- 
ham's dragoons,  who  were  considered  the  best  cavalry  in 
the  army,  to  advance  and  drive  back  the  Irish  horse. 
The  dragoons  advanced  at  a  trot,  but  "seeing  that  the 
Irish  quietly  awaited  their  coming  they  halted  behind  a 
hedge  and  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  infantry.  When 
these  came  up  the  cavalry  again  moved  forward.  The 
Irish  horse  now  fell  back  on  a  little  hill  in  their  rear, 
where  a  body  of  infantry  were  posted.  They  then  faced 
to  the  front  and  charged  and  broke  the  English  dragoons, 
who  retreated  as  the  Danes  had  done,  in  confusion. 

Eppinger's  dragoons  were  ordered  up  to  support  Cun- 
ningham's, but  the  Irish  horse  had  also  received  rein- 
forcements before  they  arrived,  and  after  a  fierce  fight 
the  two  English  regiments  were  routed  and  driven  off 
the  field.  Ginckle  rallied  them,  added  Lord  Portland's 
horse  to  their  numbers,  and  again  sent  them  against  the 
Irish.  These,  however,  had  fallen  back  from  Urachree, 
and  had  taken  up  a  new  position  upon  the  rivulet  behind 
it,  in  front  of  the  solid  ground  by  which  alone  the  right 
wing  of  the  Irish  army  could  be  approached.  Here  they 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN,  255 

remained  waiting  the  onset  of  the  British  cavalry;  but 
these,  perceiving  that  the  ground  was  becoming  more 
and  more  difficult,  soon  came  to  a  halt,  and  then  wheel- 
ing about  fell  back  upon  the  infantry. 

Seeing  the  successful  stand  which  was  made  by  a  small 
body  of  Irish  horse  to  the  advance  of  the  left  wing,  and 
that  the  spirit  with  which  his  troops  were  behaving  was 
greatly  inferior  to  that  of  the  Irish,  Ginckle  called  a 
council  of  war.  Opinions  were  greatly  at  variance.  It 
was  now  nearly  four  o'clock,  and  it  was  at  first  decided 
to  postpone  the  battle  till  the  morning,  and  a  messenger 
was  sent  to  the  baggage  column  in  the  rear  to  bring  up 
the  tents;  but  other  counsels  finally  prevailed.  The 
order  for  the  tents  was  countermanded,  and  at  half-past 
four  the  British  infantry  were  ordered  to  advance. 

They  pressed  forward  in  solid  masses  across  the  ground 
where  the  cavalry  fight  had  taken  place,  and  the  Irish 
horse  fell  back  behind  their  infantry,  who  were  posted 
behind  the  substantial  hedges  which  intersected  the 
ground  beyond  the  rivulet.  A  heavy  musketry  fire  was 
opened  upon  the  British  infantry  as  they  advanced,  but 
they  pressed  forward  in  unbroken  order  till  they  reached 
the  hedges.  These  were  long  and  obstinately  contested. 

The  Irish  had  cut  openings  through  the  hedges  by 
which  they  could  retire,  and  as  they  fell  back  from  hedge 
to  hedge  the  advancing  British  were  received  by  a  fire 
from  hedges  on  both  flanks  as  well  as  from  the  front. 
As  the  British  poured  regiment  after  regiment  to  the 
attack,  St.  Euth  moved  some  bodies  of  horse  and  foot 
from  his  left  to  the  support  of  his  right  wing.  This 
movement  had  been  foreseen  by  Ginckle,  who  now  gave 
orders  for  several  battalions  of  infantry  to  cross  the  bog 
and  attack  the  Irish  center. 

At  this  point  there  was  a  path  across  the  bog,  or  rather 
a  place  where  the  mud  and  water  were  not  so  deep  as  At 


ORANGE  AND 

other  points,  and  where  it  was  possible  for  it  to  be 
forded.  Ginckle  had  found  a  peasant,  who,  for  a  large 
sum  of  money,  disclosed  the  passage.  It  traversed  the 
bog  at  its  narrowest  point,  the  hill  of  Kilcomeden  here 
running  out  a  shoulder  far  into  it.  Four  regiments 
entered  the  morass,  with  orders  to  cross  it  and  make 
their  way  to  the  nearest  hedges  on  the  sloping  ground, 
where  they  were  to  post  themselves  till  the  cavalry,  who 
were  to  attempt  the  passage  by  Aughrim  Castle,  could 
come  round  to  their  support. 

The  first  part  of  the  passage  was  unopposed,  but  the 
difficulty  of  passing  was  great,  for  the  men  were  fre- 
quently up  to  their  waists  in  mud,  too  soft  to  afford  any 
firm  footing,  but  solid  enough  to  render  it  extremely 
difficult  for  the  feet  to  be  disengaged  from  it.  At 
length,  as  they  approached  firmer  ground,  the  Irish  in- 
fantry advanced  toward  the  edge  of  the  bog  and  received 
them  with  a  steady  fire. 

The  English,  although  suffering  heavily,  pressed  for- 
ward without  firing  a  shot,  till  the  ground  became  solid 
under  their  feet,  when  the  Irish  withdrew,  and,  as  upon 
the  right,  took  post  behind  the  hedges  which  everywhere 
intersected  the  slopes.  The  English,  seeing  the  Irish 
retire,  pressed  forward,  and  another  fierce  contest  raged 
in  the  inclosures;  the  Irish,  according  to  their  precon- 
ceived plan,  falling  gradually  back.  The  British  in  their 
ardor  forgot  their  orders  to  halt  at  the  first  hedge,  and 
continued  to  press  forward  until  the  constantly  increas- 
ing numbers  of  the  enemy  recalled  to  their  leaders  the 
danger  of  the  position. 

Before  them  were  the  heights  of  Kilcomeden  with  a 
strong  force  drawn  up  to  receive  them,  while  on  both 
flanks  the  enemy  were  crowding  down  to  intercept  their 
retreat.  Colonel  Earl,  who  was  the  senior  officer,  looked 
anxiously  toward  the  right,  from  which  quarter  he  ex- 


ORANGE  AND  OREEN.  257 

tfie  British  cavalry  to  arrive  to  his  assistance;  but 
no  sound  reached  him  from  that  quarter,  while  on  the 
left  the  sound  of  the  conflict,  instead  of  advancing,  ap- 
peared to  recede,  as  if  the  British  column  was  being 
forced  back. 

Advancing  before  his  own  regiment  he  called  upon  the 
soldiers  to  stand  firm,  for  retreat  would  be  destruction, 
and  the  only  hope  was  to  maintain  their  position  till  as- 
sistance arrived.  When  the  Irish  saw  that  the  enemy 
had  halted  and  could  not  be  tempted  to  advance  further 
they  poured  down  to  the  attack  through  the  passages  in 
the  hedges.  The  British  might  have  defended  these 
hedges  as  the  Irish  had  done,  but  the  soldiers  saw  that 
they  would  be  taken  in  the  flank  and  rear,  and  observing 
a  large  body  of  cavalry  ascending  the  hill  they  were  seized 
with  a  panic. 

On  the  first  shock  of  the  Irish  infantry  the  four  regi- 
ments broke  and  fled.  They  were  hotly  pursued  and 
slaughtered  in  great  numbers,  the  Irish  cavalry  pouring 
through  the  openings  in  the  hedges  which  had  been  pre- 
pared for  them.  At  length  the  fugitives  reached  the 
edge  of  the  bog,  where  they  gathered  in  a  confused  mass, 
which  the  officers  in  vain  attempted  to  form  into  order. 
The  cavalry  charged  down  upon  them,  broke  and  scat- 
tered them,  and  drove  them  into  the  morass,  followed  by 
the  Irish  infantry,  who  were  better  acquainted  with  the 
ground  and  more  accustomed  to  traversing  bogs.  The 
soldiers  were  driven  into  the  deepest  and  most  difficult 
portion  of  the  morass  and  a  great  slaughter  took  place. 

The  British  artillery  were  planted  on  the  edge  of  the 
morass,  but  so  mingled  were  the  two  parties  that  they 
were  unable  to  fire.  Great  numbers  of  the  English  were 
killed,  Colonels  Earl  and  Herbert  with  many  officers  and 
men  were  taken  prisoners,  and  the  remnant  of  the  British 
were  driven  completely  across  the  bog  to  the  shelter  of 
their  own  cannon. 


$68  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

While  this  was  passing  in  the  center  another  division 
of  Ginckle's  army,  consisting  of  English  and  French  in- 
fantry, had  crossed  the  bog  by  a  passage  more  to  the 
right.  They  also  had  met  with  no  opposition  in  passing, 
and  it  was  only  when  they  reached  the  hedges  on  the 
firm  ground  that  the  Irish  showed  themselves,  fired,  and 
retreated.  This  division,  more  cautious  than  that  of 
Earl,  could  not  be  tempted  to  pursue,  but  contented 
themselves  with  maintaining  their  ground  under  a  heavy 
fire,  awaiting  anxiously  the  arrival  of  the  British  horse. 

They  could  see,  however,  no  sign  of  them,  but  could 
perceive  the  Irish  cavalry  descending  in  large  masses  pre- 
paring to  charge,  while  the  infantry  were  forming  for  an 
advance.  So  far  the  Irish  had  been  successful  at  every 
point;  they  had  repulsed  every  attack  made  by  the  Brit- 
ish left,  had  crushed  the  brigade  composed  of  the  flower 
of  the  British  infantry  which  had  assaulted  the  center, 
and  were  now  preparing  to  destroy  the  division  which 
stood  unsupported  on  their  side  of  the  bog.  At  this 
moment  a  tumult  was  heard  on  the  left  wing  of  the  Irish, 
the  direction  from  which  the  British  division  expected 
relief,  and  the  Irish,  aware  of  the  importance  of  the  pass 
of  Aughrim,  suspended  their  attack  to  await  the  events 
there. 

St.  Euth  had  directed  the  operations  of  the  battle 
with  as  much  skill  as  he  had  prepared  for  the  assault. 
He  had  taken  up  his  position  .on  a  point  of  the  hill 
whence  he  had  a  complete  view  of  the  whole  field  of 
battle,  and  had  moved  his  troops  with  calmness  and  judg- 
ment to  meet  each  of  the  attacks  made  upon  them,  and 
when  he  saw  the  destruction  of  the  English  regiment  in 
the  center  he  exclaimed,  in  the  full  confidence  of  vic- 
tory, "Now  I  will  drive  the  English  to  the  walls  of 
Dublin!" 

There  was,  indeed,  but  one  hope,  on  the  part  of  the 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  259 

English,  of  retrieving  the  day,  namely,  the  success  of  the 
attempt  to  force  the  passage  at  Aughrim.  But  two 
horsemen  abreast  could  pass  under  the  castle  walls.  St. 
Ruth  was  aware  of  the  passage,  but  thought  it  impas- 
sable for  cavalry.  It  might  easily  have  been  made  so  by 
cutting  a  deep  gap  across  it;  but  here,  as  at  Athlone,  his 
over-confidence  proved  his  destruction.  He  had,  how- 
ever, taken  the  precaution  to  erect  a  battery  commanding 
the  passage,  and  had  placed  some  battalions  of  infantry 
there. 

General  Talmash,  who  commanded  the  English  cavalry, 
knew  that  the  battle  was  lost  unless  he  could  succeed  at 
this  point,  and  at  the  head  of  his  command  he  led  the 
way  along  the  pass,  which  was  not  only  narrow,  but 
broken  and  encumbered  with  the  ruins  of  the  castle  wall. 
St.  Ruth  beheld  the  attempt  of  the  cavalry  with  astonish- 
ment, and  with  the  remark,  "They  are  brave  fellows,  it  is 
a  pity  they  should  be  sacrificed,  "sent  orders  for  the  Irish 
horse  to  move  forward  and  prepare  to  charge  them,  and 
moved  down  the  hill  at  the  head  of  his  officers  to  the 
battery. 

There  is  no  doubt  as  to  what  the  result  would  have 
been  had  the  Irish  horse  charged.  They  were  greatly 
superior  in  number,  and  the  English  cavalry  who  had  got 
across  the  passage  were  still  in  confusion  and  were  suffer- 
ing from  the  fire  of  the  battery,  and,  inaeed,  even  when 
in  equal  numbers,  William's  cavalry  had  never  withstood 
the  charge  of  the  Irish. 

It  seemed  that  nothing  could  avert  the  defeat  of  the 
body  on  which  Ginckle's  last  hope  rested.  But  at  this 
moment  one  of  those  events  by  which  Providence  over- 
rules the  calculations  of  man  occurred.  A  cannon-ball 
struck  St.  Ruth  as  he  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  battery 
and  killed  him  instantly.  Tho  occurrence  paralyzed  the 
Irish  army.  Sarsfield  was  away,  there  was  no  one  to  give 


260  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

orders,  the  news  that  some  extraordinary  calamity  had 
happened  spread  rapidly,  the  men  in  the  battery  ceased 
firing,  the  cavalry,  receiving  no  orders  to  charge,  re- 
mained immovable. 

Talmash  took  advantage  of  the  pause  to  get  the  rest  of 
his  cavalry  across  the  passage,  and  then  with  his  whole 
force  moved  toward  the  center.  As  he  approached,  the 
idea  that  the  unknown  calamity  of  which  they  had  heard 
was  that  the  British  had  defeated  their  own  left  spread 
among  the  Irish,  and  they  began  to  fall  back.  The  Brit- 
ish column  on  the  edge  of  the  bog  advanced,  Ginckle 
pushed  several  fresh  battalions  across  the  morass  in  the 
center,  and  the  Irish  infantry  fell  back,  disputing  every 
inch  of  the  ground.  The  cavalry  were  still  without 
orders,  for  strangely  enough  no  one  assumed  the  com- 
mand on  the  death  of  St.  Ruth. 

As  night  came  on  the  retreat  of  the  Irish  infantry  be- 
came a  rout,  but  the  cavalry  halted  on  the  summit  of 
Kilcomeden  and  covered  the  retreat. 

The  extraordinary  circumstance  of  the  Irish  army 
being  left  without  orders  after  the  death  of  St.  Ruth  has 
never  been  explained.  The  command  should  have  de- 
volved upon  Sarsfield,  but  none  of  the  accounts  of  the 
battle  speak  of  him  as  being  present.  He  had  certainly 
not  been  consulted  by  St.  Ruth,  and  had  not  been  pres- 
ent at  the  council  of  war  before  the  battle,  for  the  bad 
feeling  which  had  existed  between  him  and  St.  Ruth 
since  that  general  arrived  had  broken  out  into  open  dis- 
pute since  the  fall  of  Athlone;  but  it  is  inexplicable  that 
there  should  have  been  no  second  in  command,  that  no 
one  should  have  come  forward  to  give  orders  after  the 
death  of  the  general,  that  a  victorious  army  should  have 
been  left  as  a  flock  of  sheep  without  a  shepherd. 

Up  to  the  moment  of  the  death  of  St.  Ruth  the  loss  of 
the  British  had  been  very  severe,  as  they  had  more  than 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  261 

two  thousand  men  killed  and  wounded,  while  that  of  the 
Irish  was  trifling.  But  in  the  subsequent  struggle  the 
Irish,  fighting  each  man  for  himself,  without  order  or 
object,  were  slaughtered  in  vast  numbers,  their  loss  being 
estimated  by  the  British  writers  at  seven  thousand  men, 
a  number  which  points  to  wholesale  slaughter  rather 
than  to  the  loss  which  could  have  been  inflicted  upon  a 
brave  army  during  little  over  an  hour  of  daylight. 

But  crushing  as  the  defeat  of  the  Irish  had  been  the 
victory  was  far  from  inspiring  William  or  his  army  with 
the  confidence  they  had  felt  at  the  outset  of  the  war. 
Here,  as  at  Athlone,  it  was  almost  a  miracle  which  had 
saved  the  English  from  a  terrible  disaster.  The  Irish 
had  proved  themselves  fully  a  match  for  the  best  soldiers 
that  William  could  send  against  them,  and  although  their 
infantry  had  suffered  terribly  in  the  rout  their  ranks 
would  be  speedily  filled  up  again;  while  the  cavalry,  the 
arm  in  which  the  Irish  had  uniformly  proved  their  supe- 
riority, had  moved  away  from  the  field  of  battle  intact 
and  unbroken.  Athlone  and  Aughrim  therefore  rendered 
William  and  his  general  more  anxious  than  ever  to  bring 
the  struggle  to  an  end,  not  by  the  force  of  arms,  but  by 
offering  every  concession  to  the  Irish. 

The  imminence  of  the  peril  had  cowed  even  the  party 
of  confiscation,  and  they  offered  no  opposition  to  the 
issue  by  Ginckle  of  proclamations  renewing  the  offers  of 
William.  Ginckle  himself  moved  forward  immediately 
after  the  battle  and  granted  the  most  liberal  terms  to  the 
garrisons  of  the  various  small  posts  which  he  came  upon. 
On  arriving  before  Galway  he  permitted  that  town  and 
garrison  to  surrender  on  the  terms  of  a  pardon  for  all, 
security  of  property  and  estate,  freedom  of  religious  wor- 
ship, and  permission  for  the  garrison  to  march  away  to 
Limerick  with  drums  beating  and  colors  flying,  the  Brit- 
ish furnishing  horses  for  the  transport«of  their  cannon 
and  baggage. 


263  ORANGE  AND  ORESN. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A    FOBTUNATE   BECOGNITIOtf. 

AFTER  the  capitulation  of  Galway,  Ginckle  moved 
toward  Limerick.  King  William,  who  was  absent  on  the 
Continent,  was  most  anxious  for  the  aid  of  the  army 
warring  in  Ireland,  and  the  queen  and  her  advisers,  con- 
sidering that  the  war  was  now  virtually  over,  ordered 
transports  to  Ireland  to  take  onboard  ten  thousand  men; 
but  Ginckle  was  allowed  a  month's  delay.  He  himself 
was  by  no  means  sanguine  as  to  his  position.  The  Irish 
army  was  still  as  numerous  as  the  British,  and  they  were 
not  discouraged  by  their  defeat  at  Aughrim,  where  they 
considered,  and  rightly,  that  victory  bad  only  been 
snatched  from  their  grasp  by  an  accident.  Ginckle  relied 
rather  "upon  concession  than  force. 

The  Irish  were  divided  into  two  parties,  one  of  which 
earnestly  desired  peace  if  they  could  obtain  fair  terms, 
while  the  other  insisted  that  the  British  could  not  be 
trusted  to  keep  any  terms  they  might  make.  Sarsfield 
was  at  the  head  of  the  war  party,  and  succeeded  for  the 
present  in  preventing  any  arrangement.  Ginckle  ad- 
vanced slowly,  for  he  had  to  march  through  a  waste  and 
desolate  country.  Sarsfield  with  his  cavalry  hovered 
round  him,  and  intercepted  his  communications,  and  he 
was  so  short  of  draught-horses  that  it  was  only  by  forcing 
the  gentry  of  Dublin  to  give  up  their  carriage  horses  for 
the  use  of  the  army  that  he  was  enabled  to  move  forward. 

It  was  not  until  the  end  of  August  that  he  sat  down 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

with  his  siege-train  in  front  of  Limerick  and  prepared 
for  the  siege.  For  the  moment  the  party  in  favor  of 
peace  among  the  Irish  had  been  silenced  by  the  news 
that  twenty  large  ships-of-war,  with  a  great  number  of 
transport  and  store  ships,  were  being  pushed  forward  at 
Brest  and  other  French  ports  to  come  to  their  assistance. 

Giuckle  occupied  the  same  ground  which  William's 
army  had  taken  up  in  the  first  sioge,  but  directed  his 
attacks  chiefly  upon  the  English  town. 

As  before,  the  Irish  communication  was  open  with  the 
county  of  Clare,  and  the  seventeen  regiments  of  Irish 
horse  were  encamped  on  the  Clare  side  of  the  river. 
Ginckle  pushed  on  his  works  with  great  vigor,  and  the 
duty  in  the  trenches  was  so  severe  that  the  cavalry  were 
compelled  to  take  their  turn  with  the  infantry;  but  not- 
withstanding that  the  siege  artillery  was  much  more 
powerful  than  that  which  William  had  at  his  disposal, 
but  little  progress  was  made.  The  town  was  set  on  fire 
several  times;  but  the  flames  were  speedily  extinguished, 
and  as  the  inhabitants  had  all  left  the  city  and  erected 
tents  on  the  Clare  side  under  the  protection  of  their 
cavalry,  little  harm  was  done  to  them. 

While  the  siege  was  going  on,  a  number  of  desultory 
engagements  took  place  in  different  parts  of  the  country 
between  the  Protestant  militia  which  had  been  lately 
raised,  and  the  bands  of  Eapparees,  with  varying  success. 

The  season  was  getting  late;  Ginckle  was  again  be- 
coming straitened  for  provisions,  for  the  proclamations 
which  he  issued  failed  to  inspire  the  peasantry  with  any 
confidence.  He  now  erected  a  battery  of  thirty-five  guns 
against  King's  Island,  and  after  an  incessant  cannonade  of 
some  days  a  breach  was  effected  in  the  wall  between  the 
abbey  and  Ballsbridge. 

Preparations  were  made  for  crossing  the  arm  of  the 
Shannon  and  assaulting  the  breach;  but  the  works  con- 


264  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

structed  for  crossing  the  river  were  repeatedly  destroyed 
by  the  Irish,  and  the  idea  of  assault  upon  the  breach  was 
at  length  abandoned.  So  desperate  did  Ginckle  now 
think  his  position  that  he  issued  orders  for  the  repair  of 
the  fortifications  of  Kilmallock,  intending  to  raise  the 
siege  and  establish  his  winter-quarters  there;  but  he  post- 
poned taking  this  step  for  a  few  days,  for  to  do  so  would 
be  to  bring  almost  certain  disaster  upon  his  army. 

The  French  fleet  was  expected  to  arrive  shortly,  and 
the  Irish,  reinforced  with  men,  arms,  and  supplies  of 
every  kind,  would  probably  resume  the  offensive  during 
the  winter,  and  he  would  find  himself  cut  off  from  all 
supplies  and  assistance.  He  determined  therefore  to 
make  one  more  effort  before  retiring.  He  had  through- 
out the  siege  been  in  communication  with  several  Irish 
officers  of  high  rank,  and  especially  with  General  Clifford, 
who  commanded  the  cavalry  posted  on  the  river  opposite 
to  his  camp. 

These  officers  were  as  desirous  as  he  was  of  bringing 
the  war  to  an  end,  for  they  foresaw  that  if  af  er  the  ar- 
rival of  the  French  they  succeeded  in  driving  the  English 
out  of  the  country,  Ireland  would  simply  become  a  de- 
pendency of  France,  and  they  preferred  the  English  con- 
nection to  this.  Ginckle  determined  to  try  again  the 
same  feint  which  had  succeeded  at  Athlone.  The  work- 
men were  kept  busy  repairing  the  works  at  Kilmallock, 
and  preparing  that  place  for  the  reception  of  the  army. 
The  greater  portion  of  the  baggage  and  a  regiment  of 
Danes  were  sent  forward  to  that  town.  The  batteries 
ceased  firing,  and  the  cannon  were  dismounted  at  several 
points,  and  the  Irish  were  persuaded  that  the  siege  was 
about  to  be  abandoned. 

Meanwhile  Ginckle  was  busy  collecting  boats  and  pre- 
paring a  bridge  across  to  a  small  island  which  lay  not  far 
from  the  Clare  side  of  the  river.  On  a  dark  night  the 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  365 

boats  were  brought  up  and  the  bridge  constructed,  and, 
led  by  six  hundred  grenadiers,  a  strong  force  of  infantry, 
cavalry,  and  artillery  crossed  to  the  island,  and  then 
waded  through  the  shallow  water  beyond  to  the  main- 
land. A  few  men  posted  on  the  island  carried  the  news 
to  Clifford,  but  he  gave  no  orders  to  the  four  regiments 
of  cavalry  and  two  of  infantry  under  his  command,  nor 
did  he  send  any  notice  to  the  camp 

Some  of  the  infantry  and  cavalry,  however,  ran  with- 
out orders  to  the  bank,  and  kept  the  grenadiers  in  check 
until  the  British  cavalry  had  crossed  and  compelled  them 
to  fall  back.  The  British  cavalry  then  dashed  forward 
to  the  Irish  cavalry  camp,  which  they  took  completely  by 
surprise.  Panic-stricken  at  ^this  unexpected  attack,  the 
soldiers  and  the  citizens  in  the  town  camp  fled  in  all  di- 
rections, and  great  numbers  rushing  to  Thomond  Bridge, 
entered  the  city  by  that  narrow  approach. 

Had  Ginckle  at  once  pushed  forward  he  would  have 
captured  almost  the  whole  of  the  Irish  officials  and  civil- 
ians on  the  Clare  side  of  the  river;  but,  fearing  an  am- 
buscade, he  halted  his  troops  before  advancing  to  the 
Irish  camp,  and  this  gave  time  for  most  of  them  to 
escape. 

Being  afraid  that  the  garrison  would  sally  out  from  the 
town  and  attack  his  lines  on  the  other  side  of  the  river, 
he  recrossed  the  Shannon  with  his  troops,  carrying  with 
them  a  crowd  of  civilians,  among  them  a  number  of  per- 
sons of  rank,  and  officials  with  the  records  and  public 
treasure. 

The  confusion  and  surprise  in  the  town  were  so  great 
that  the  Irish  generals  took  no  steps  whatever  either  to 
hinder  his  passage  back  across  the  river  or  to  attack 
either  portion  of  his  divided  army.  They  knew  that 
treachery  must  have  been  at  work  to  have  enabled  the 
enemy  to  surprise  the  camp,  and  as  they  could  not  tell 


266  ORANGE  AND  GREEN". 

how  far  that  treachery  extended  they  abstained  from  all 
action. 

Captain  Davenant's  troop  had  shared  in  the  disaster 
inflicted  by  the  night  attack  upon  the  cavalry  camp.  All 
were  asleep  when  the  English  cavalry  burst  upon  them. 
Taken  utterly  by  surprise,  and  ignorant  as  to  the  strength 
of  the  force  by  which  they  were  attacked,  there  was  no 
thought  of  resistance;  officers  and  men  leaped  from  the 
piles  of  rushes,  which  served  as  beds,  and  rushed  to  their 
horses.  The  English  troopers  were  cutting  and  hewing 
in  all  directions,  and  cutting  the  picket  ropes,  each  man 
sprang  on  his  horse  and  rode  for  his  life.  Captain 
Davenant  had  at  first  shouted  to  his  men  to  keep  steady; 
but  his  words  were  lost  in  the  din  which  prevailed,  and 
seeing  that  nothing  was  to  be  done,  he  said  to  Walter: 

"It  is  all  over,  Walter;  we  must  ride  for  it  like  the 
rest." 

By  morning  the  Irish  cavalry  was  scattered  all  over  the 
country,  and  it  was  not  for  two  or  three  days  that  they 
again  assembled  in  regiments,  presenting  a  sorry  sight, 
the  greater  part  having  lost  saddles  and  accouterments  of 
every  kind.  A  few  troops,  composed  of  men  who  had 
been  fortunate  enough  to  have  left  their  horses  saddled 
when  night  came  on,  were  sent  back  to  Limerick.  The 
rest  drew  off  toward  Ennis  and  encamped  there  until 
they  could  procure  saddles*  and  accouterments  to  take 
the  field  again. 

In  Captain  Davenant's  troop  there  were  but  six  men 
who  had  saved  their  saddles;  and  as  it  would  have  been 
useless  to  send  so  small  a  detachment  to  Limerick,  these 
remained  with  the  troop,  and  tvere  at  Walter's  request 
placed  entirely  at  his  disposal  in  order  that  with  them  he 
might  make  scouting  expeditions  in  the  enemy's  rear. 
He  had  permission  to  consider  himself  on  detached  serv- 
ice, and  to  join  any  body  of  Rapparees  he  might  choose,* 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  267 

but  this  Walter  did  not  care  about  doing,  for  he  had  a 
horror  of  the  savage  acts  which  were  perpetrated  by  the 
irregular  forces  on  both  sides,  and  determined  to  confine 
himself  to  watching  the  roads,  bringing  the  sews  of  any 
convoys  which  might  be  traversing  the  country,  and  cut- 
ting off  messengers  going  or  returning  with  dispatches. 

The  service  was  one  of  no  great  danger,  for  parties  of 
peasants  were  on  the  watch  night  and  day,  and  the  in- 
stant any  movement  was  observed  they  started  off  at  full 
speed  to  warn  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  surrounding  vil- 
lages to  drive  away  their  cattle  and  carry  off  their  effects 
into  the  hills  or  into  the  heart  of  some  neighboring  bog 
where  the  cavalry  would  not  venture  to  penetrate. 

One  day  when  with  his  little  band  he  was  halting  at  a 
Tillage  some  ten  miles  in  rear  of  the  camp  a  peasant  ran 
in.  "A  party  of  their  horse  have  just  seized  some  carts 
laden  with  potatoes  at  Kilcowan,  and  are  driving  them 
off.  The  boys  are  mustering  to  attack  them  on  their 
way  back." 

"It  is  too  bad/'  Walter  exclaimed.  "Only  three  days 
ago  Ginckle  issued  another  proclamation  guaranteeing 
that  no  provisions  or  other  goods  should  be  taken  by  his 
soldiers  without  payment.  To  horse,  lads!  We  will  ride 
out  and  give  the  peasants  a  helping  hand  if  they  really 
mean  to  attack  the  enemy." 

Kilcowan  was  two  miles  away,  and  having  learned  from 
the  peasant  that  the  people  intended  to  attack  at  a  point 
where  the  road  passed  between  two  hills,  a  mile  and  a 
half  beyond  the  village,  he  galloped  on  at  full  speed. 
He  arrived,  however,  too  late  to  take  any  part  in  the 
iight.  The  peasants  had  rushed  suddenly  down  the  hill- 
sides armed  with  scythes  and  pikes  upon  the  convoy  as  it 
passed  below  them.  Several  of  the  cavalry  had  been 
killed,  and  the  rest  were  riding  off  when  Walter  with  his 
troopers  dashed  up.  They  continued  the  pursuit  for  a 


268  ORANGE  AND  QRERK. 

mile,  cutting  off  a  few  stragglers  less  well  mounted  than 
the  rest,  and  then  returned  to  Kilcowan,  where  the  peas- 
ants had  just  arrived  in  triumph  with  the  rescued  carts 
of  potatoes. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  asked  when  the  ex- 
citement of  the  welcome  accorded  by  the  women  to  the 
captors  had  subsided  a  little.  "You  may  expect  a  strong 
body  to  be  sent  out'to-morrow  to  punish  you  for  this." 

"It's  the  general's  own  proclamation,  your  honor. 
Didn't  he  say  himself  that  his  soldiers  were  not  to  stale 
anything,  and  that  they  would  be  severely  punished  if 
they  did,  and  didn't  he  guarantee  that  we  should  be  paid 
for  everything?  He  could  not  blame  us  for  what  we 
have  done,  and  he  ought  to  hang  the  rest  of  those  thiev- 
ing villains  when  they  get  back  to  him." 

"I  wouldn't  be  too  sure  about  it,"  Walter  said.  "He 
issued  a  good  many  proclamations  before,  but  he  has 
never  kept  the  terms  of  one  of  them.  If  I  were  you  I 
would  leave  the  village — man,  woman,  and  child — for  a 
few  days  at  any  rate,  and  see  how  the  Dutchman  takes  it." 

But  the  villagers  could  not  be  persuaded  that  the 
Dutch  general  would  disapprove  of  what  they  had  done, 
and  Walter  finding  his  arguments  of  no  avail  rode  off 
with  his  men  to  the  village  they  had  left  an  hour  before, 
with  the  parting  advice  that  if  they  would  not  follow  his 
counsel  they  should  at  any  rate  place  watchers  that  night 
on  the  roads  toward  Ginckle's  camp,  to  bring  them  news 
of  the  approach  of  any  body  of  the  enemy's  cavalry. 

But  the  villagers  were  too  delighted  with  their  day's 
work  to  pay  much  heed  to  Walter's  warning,  and  after  a 
general  jollification  in  honor  of  their  victory  retired  to 
rest  thoughtless  of  danger.  It  was  getting  dark  when 
Walter  reached  the  village  where  he  had  determined  to 
stay  for  the  night.  He  ordered  the  men  to  keep  the 
saddles  on  their  horses  and  to  hitch  them  to  the  doors  of 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  «|69 

the  cabins  where  they  took  up  their  quarters,  in  readi- 
ness for  instant  movement.  He  placed  one  mounted 
sentry  at  the  entrance  to  the  village,  and  another  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  on  the  road  toward  Kilcowan.  At  nine 
o'clock  he  heard  the  sound  of  a  horse  galloping  up  to  the 
door,  and  ran  out.  It  was  the  sentry  at  the  end  of  the 
village. 

''Kilcowan  is  on  fire,  sir!" 

Walter  looked  in  that  direction  and  saw  a  broad  glare 
of  light. 

"Ride  out  and  bring  in  the  advanced  sentry/'  he  said, 
*'as  quick  as  possible." 

He  called  the  other  men  out  and  bade  them  mount; 
that  done  they  sat  ready  to  ride  off  on  the  return  of  their 
comrades. 

"Here  they  come,  sir,"  one  of  the  men  said,  "and  I 
fancy  the  enemy  are  after  them." 

Walter  listened  intently.  He  could  hear  a  deep 
thundering  noise,  which  was  certainly  made  by  the  hoofs 
of  more  than  two  horses. 

"Face  about,  men,  trot!  Keep  your  horses  well  in 
hand  until  the  others  come  up,  and  then  ride  for  it.  Ah, 
what  is  that?" 

As  he  spoke  there  was  a  shout  from  the  other  end  of 
the  village,  followed  instantly  by  the  trampling  of 
horses. 

"They  have  surrounded  us!"  Walter  exclaimed. 
"Shoulder  to  shoulder,  lads,  and  cut  your  way  through. 
It's  our  only  chance.  Charge!"  And  placing  himself 
at  the  head  he  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  dashed  at  the 
approaching  enemy. 

There  was  a  fierce  shock,  a  horse  and  rider  rolled  over 
from  the  impetus  of  his  charge,  then  he  cut  right  and 
left;  pistol  shots  rang  out,  and  his  horse  fell  beneath 
him  shot  through  the  head,  pinning  his  leg  beneath  it. 


270  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

The  fall  saved  his  life,  for  four  or  five  troopers  had  sur- 
rounded him,  and  in  another  moment  he  would  have 
been  cut  own.  For  a  time  he  ran  great  risk  of  being 
trampled  upon  in  the  confusion  which  followed.  Then 
Borne  of  the  troopers  dismounted,  he  was  dragged  from 
beneath  his  horse,  and  found  himself  a  prisoner.  He 
was  placed  in  the  center  of  the  troop,  the  only  captive 
taken,  for  two  of  the  six  men  had  got  safe  away  in  the 
darkness  and  confusion,  the  other  four  had  fallen. 

The  English,  as  he  afterward  learned,  had,  immediately 
they  arrived  at  Kilcowan,  inquired  where  the  Irish  cav- 
alry who  had  taken  part  in  the  afternoon's  fight  were 
quartered,  and  on  hearing  that  they  were  but  two  miles 
away,  the  officer  in  command  had  forced  one  of  the 
peasants  to  act  as  guide,  and  to  take  a  party  round  by  a 
detour  so  as  to  enter  at  the  other  end  of  the  village,  just 
as  another  party  rode  in  by  the  direct  road. 

Walter  was  taken  first  to  Kilcowan.  There  he  found  a 
party  of  twelve  or  fourteen  peasants  surrounded  by  cav- 
alry. The  whole  village  was  in  flames.  Several  of  the 
inhabitants  had  been  cut  down  as  the  cavalry  entered; 
the  rest,  with  the  exception  of  those  in  the  hands  of  the 
troops,  had  fled  in  the  darkness.  As  soon  as  the  detach- 
ment with  Walter  arrived  the  whole  body  got  into  motion, 
and  reached  Ginckle's  camp  shortly  before  midnight. 

As  the  general  had  retired  to  sleep  they  were  placed  in 
a  tent,  and  four  sentries  posted  round  it,  with  orders  to 
shoot  any  one  who  showed  his  head  outside.  In  the 
morning  they  were  ordered  to  come  out  and  found  out- 
side the  general  with  several  of  his  officers. 

"So,"  Ginckle  said,  "you  are  the  fellows  who  attacked 
my  soldiers.  I  will  teach  you  a  lesson  which  shall  be  re- 
membered all  over  Ireland.  You  shall  be  broken  on  the 
wheel." 

This  sentence  was  heard  unmoved  by  the  peasants,  who 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  271 

had  not  the  least  idea  of  what  was  meant  by  it;  but 
Walter  stepped  forward: 

"It  is  not  these  men  who  are  to  blame,  but  your  sol- 
diers, general,"  he  said.  "Your  own  proclamation  issued 
three  days  ago  guaranteed  that  no  private  property 
should  be  interfered  with,  and  that  everything  the  troops 
required  should  be  paid  for.  Your  soldiers  disobeyed 
your  orders  and  plundered  these  poor  people,  and  they 
were  just  as  much  justified  in  defending  themselves 
against  them  as  any  householder  is  who  resists  a  burglar." 

"You  dare  speak  to  me!"  exclaimed  Ginckle.  "You 
shall  share  their  fate.  Every  man  of  you  shall  be  broken 
on  the  wheel." 

"General  Ginckle, "  Walter  said  warmly,  "hitherto  the 
foul  excesses  of  your  troops  have  brought  disgrace  upon 
them  rather  than  you;  but  if  this  brutal  order  is  carried 
out  your  name  will  be  held  infamous,  and  you  will  stand 
next  only  to  Cromwell  in  the  curses  which  Irishmen  will 
heap  upon  your  memory." 

The  Dutch  general  was  almost  convulsed  with  passion. 

"Take  the  dogs  away,"  he  shouted,  "and  let  the  sen- 
tence be  carried  out." 

Several  English  officers  were  standing  near,  and  these 
looked  at  one  another  in  astonishment  and  disgust.  Two 
of  them  hurried  away  to  fetch  some  of  the  superior 
officers,  and  directly  these  heard  of  the  orders  that  had 
been  given  they  proceeded  to  Ginckle's  tent. 

"Can  it  be  true,"  General  Hamilton  said,  "that  you 
have  ordered  some  prisoners  to  be  broken  on  the  wheel?'* 

"I  have  given  those  orders/'  Ginckle  said  angrily,  "and 
I  will  not  permit  them  to  be  questioned. " 

"Pardon  me,"  General  Hamilton  said  firmly;  "but 
they  must  be  questioned.  There  is  no  such  punishment 
as  breaking  on  the  wheel  known  to  the  English  law,  and 
I  and  my  English  comrades  protest  against  such  a  sen- 
tence being  carried  out."  J 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"But  I  will  have  it  so!"  Ginckle  exclaimed,  his  face 
purple  with  passion. 

"Then,  sir,"  General  Hamilton  said,  "I  tell  you  that 
in  half  an  hour  from  the  present  time  I  will  march  out 
from  your  camp  at  the  head  of  my  division  of  British 
troops  and  will  return  to  Dublin;  and  what  is  more,  I 
will  fight  my  way  out  of  the  camp  if  any  opposition  is 
offered,  and  will  explain  my  conduct  to  the  king  and  the 
British  parliament.  Enough  disgrace  has  already  been 
brought  upon  all  connected  with  the  army  by  the  doings 
of  the  foreign  troops;  but  when  it  comes  to  the  death  by 
torture  of  prisoners  by  the  order  of  their  general,  it  is 
time  that  every  British  officer  should  refuse  to  permit 
such  foul  disgrace  to  rest  upon  his  name." 

There  was  a  chorus  of  assent  from  the  other  English 
officers,  while  Ginckle's  foreign  officers  gathered  round 
him,  and  it  looked  for  a  moment  as  if  swords  would  be 
drawn. 

Ginckle  saw  that  he  had  gone  too  far,  and  felt  that  not 
only  would  this  quarrel,  if  pushed  further,  compel  him 
to  raise  the  siege  and  fall  back  upon  Dublin,  but  it  would 
entail  upon  him  the  displeasure  of  the  king,  still  more 
certainly  that  of  the  English  parliament. 

"There  is  no  occasion  for  threats/'  he  said,  mastering 
his  passion.  "You  tell  me  that  such  a  punishment  is 
contrary  to  English  law;  that  is  enough,  I  abandon  it  at 
once.  The  prisoners  shall  be  hung  and  quartered.  I 
presume  that  you  have  no  objection  to  offer  to  that/' 

"That,  general,  is  a  matter  in  your  own  competence, 
and  for  your  own  conscience,"  Hamilton  said.  "The 
men  have  simply,  as  I  understand,  defended  their  prop- 
erty against  marauders,  and  they  are,  as  I  conceive, 
worthy  of  no  punishment  whatever.  If  you  choose  to 
sentence  them  to  such  a  punishment  it  is  your  sentence 
not  mine.  I  thought  it  was  your  policy  to  heal  the 


ORANGE  AND  GREENS  273 

breach  between  the  two  parties;  it  seems  I  was  mistaken. 
Personally  I  protest  against  the  execution  of  the  sentence, 
beyond  that  I  am  not  called  upon  to  go.  An  act  of  in- 
justice or  cruelty  performed  by  a  general  upon  prisoners 
would  not  justify  a  soldier  in  imperiling  the  success  of 
the  campaign  by  resisting  the  orders  of  his  superior, 
therefore  my  duty  to  the  king  renders  me  unable  to  act; 
but  I  solemnly  protest  in  my  own  name  and  that  of  the 
English  officers  under  your  command,  against  the  sen- 
tence, which  I  consider  unjust  in  the  extreme." 

So  saying,  General  Hamilton  with  the  English  officers 
left  the  general's  tent.  If  they  hoped  that  the  protest 
would  have  the  effect  of  preventing  the  barbarous  sen- 
tence from  being  carried  into  excution  they  were  mis- 
taken. The  fact  that  to  carry  out  his  first  intention 
would  have  been  absolutely  unlawful  had  caused  Ginckle 
to  abandon  it,  but  this  made  him  only  the  more  obstinate 
in  carrying  the  second  into  execution. 

The  English  officers  stood  talking  not  far  from  his  tent 
in  tones  of  indignation  and  disgust  at  the  brutal  sen- 
tence, and  then  walked  toward  their  divisional  camp. 
As  they  went  they  saw  a  number  of  men  standing  round 
a  tree.  Some  Hessian  soldiers  with  much  brutal  laugh- 
ter were  reeving  ropes  over  the  arm  of  the  tree,  and  just 
as  the  officers  came  along  six  struggling  forms  were 
drawn  up  high  above  the  heads  of  the  crowd.  The  party 
paused  for  a  moment  and  were  about  to  pass  on,  their 
faces  showing  how  deep  was  their  horror  at  the  scene, 
when  one  of  them  exclaimed: 

"There  is  an  Irish  officer  in  uniform  among  the  pris- 
oners. This  cannot  be  suffered,  Hamilton.  The  Irish 
have  several  of  our  prisoners  in  the  town,  and  they  would 
rightly  retaliate  by  hanging  them  on  the  battlements." 

General  Hamilton  and  the  others  pressed  forward. 

"Colonel    Hanau,"   the  general    said    to    a  Hessian 


274  ORANGE  AND  QUEEN. 

officer,  "you  surely  cannot  be  going  to  hang  this  young 
officer?  The  general  can  never  have  included  him  with 
the  others?" 

"The  general's  orders  were  precise,"  the  Hessian  said 
coldly.  "Twelve  peasants  and  one  officer  were  to  be 
hung  and  afterward  quartered." 

"It  is  monstrous!"  General  Hamilton  exclaimed.  "I 
will  go  back  to  the  general  and  obtain  his  order  for  the 
arrest  of  the  execution." 

"You  will  be  too  late,  sir,"  the  Hessian  said  coldly. 
"I  have  my  orders,  and  before  you  are  halfway  to  the 
general's  camp  that  prisoner  will  be  swinging  from  that 
bough." 

"I  order  you  to  desist,  sir,  till  I  return,"  General 
Hamilton  said. 

"As  I  do  not  happen  to  be  in  your  division,  General 
Hamilton,  and  as  I  have  received  my  orders  from  the 
commander-in-chief,  I  decline  altogether  to  take  orders 
from  you." 

Walter,  who  had  resigned  himself  to  his  fate,  stood 
watching  the  altercation  with  a  renewed  feeling  of  hope. 
This  died  out  when  the  colonel  spoke  and  two  of  the 
troopers  seized  him,  but  at  that  moment  his  eye  fell  upon 
one  of  the  English  officers. 

"Colonel  L'Estrange!"  he  exclaimed. 

The  officer  started  at  hearing  his  name  called  out  by 
the  prisoner,  but  he  did  not  recognize  him. 

"I  am  Walter  Davenant.  You  remember,  sir,  the 
wreck  off  Bray?" 

"Good  heavens!"  Colonel  L'Estrange  exclaimed,  press- 
ing forward,  "it  is  the  lad  who  saved  my  life,  General 
Hamilton!  Gentlemen,  this  young  officer  saved  my  life 
at  the  risk  of  his  own.  I  cannot  and  will  not  stand  by 
and  see  him  murdered." 

The  Hessian  colonel  signed  to  four  of  his  men,  who 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  275 

seized  Walter  and  dragged  him  toward  the  tree.  Colonel 
L'Estrange  drew  his  sword. 

"My  men,"  he  shouted  to  some  English  soldiers  who 
were  mingled  with  the  crowd  of  onlookers,  which  had 
rapidly  increased  during  the  dispute,  "stand  by  me  and 
don't  let  this  brave  young  officer  be  murdered." 

A  score  of  soldiers  pushed  through  the  crowd  and 
ranged  themselves  by  Colonel  L'Estrange.  He  dashed 
forward  sword  in  hand,  and  in  a  moment  Walter  was  torn 
from  the  grasp  of  the  soldiers  and  placed  in  the  center  of 
his  rescuers,  who  were  now  joined  by  General  Hamilton 
and  the  other  officers. 

Several  men  had  run  off  at  full  speed  to  the  British 
camp  to  bring  up  aid.  The  Hessian  colonel  called  upon 
his  men  to  seize  the  prisoner  and  cut  down  all  who  inter- 
fered to  prevent  the  general's  orders  being  carried  out. 
These  hesitated  before  the  resolute  aspect  of  the  English, 
but  the  crowd  of  foreign  soldiers  ranged  themselves  with 
them,  and  the  attack  was  about  to  commence  when  a 
number  of  English  soldiers  were  seen  running,  musket  in 
hand,  from  their  camp. 

The  Hessian  colonel  saw  that  to  attempt  to  carry  out 
his  orders  now  would  bring  on  something  like  a  pitched 
battle,  and  he  therefore  waved  his  men  back,  saying  to 
General  Hamilton. 

"I  have  nothing  to  do  now,  sir,  but  to  report  to  Gen- 
eral Ginckle  that  I  have  been  prevented  by  force  from 
carrying  his  orders  into  effect." 

"That  you  will,  of  course,  do,"  General  Hamilton  said 
coldly.  "I  shall  be  perfectly  prepared  to  answer  for  my 
conduct." 

There  was  no  good-will  between  the  English  and 
foreign  sections  of  Ginckle's  army,  and  General  Hamil- 
ton had  some  trouble  in  preventing  the  soldiers  from  at- 
tacking the  Hessians  and  in  inducing  them  to  retire  to 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

their  camp.  As  soon  as  he  arrived  there  he  ordered  the 
drums  to  be  beaten  and  the  whole  division  to  get  under 
arms. 

He  then  dispatched  an  officer  to  General  Ginckle,  nar- 
rating the  circumstances,  and  saying  that  the  honor  of 
the  whole  army  was  concerned  in  preventing  an  officer 
fairly  taken  prisoner  in  war,  and  not  while  acting  as  a 
spy,  from  being  injured,  and  that  indeed  policy  as  well 
as  honor  forbade  such  a  course  being  taken,  as  there  were 
several  officers  of  rank  in  the  hands  of  the  Irish,  who 
would  naturally  retaliate  on  them  the  execution  of  pris- 
oners of  war. 

He  made  a  formal  complaint  against  Colonel  Hanau 
for  refusing  to  delay  the  execution  until  he  could  lay  the 
matter  before  the  general.  As  for  his  own  conduct  in 
the  matter,  he  said  he  was  perfectly  prepared  to  defend 
it  before  any  military  court,  but  that  court  must  be  held 
in  England,  where  he  purposed  to  return  at  once  with 
the  division  his  majesty  had  intrusted  to  his  command. 

The  Dutch  general  had,  long  before  he  received  the 
letter,  been  informed  of  what  had  taken  place,  and  had 
also  learned  that  the  English  division  had  struck  their 
tents  and  were  drawn  up  under  arms.  To  allow  them  to 
depart  would  be  to  entail  Certain  ruin  upon  the  campaign, 
and  he  felt  that  it  was  more  than  probable  that  the 
course  Hamilton  and  his  officers  had  taken  would  be  up- 
held by  a  military  court  in  England,  and  that  public 
opinion  would  condemn  the  execution  of  an  officer  taken 
in  fair  fight.  He  therefore  wrote  a  letter  to  General 
Hamilton,  saying  that  he  regretted  to  find  that  he  had 
been  acting  under  a  misapprehension,  for  he  had  under- 
stood that  the  person  claiming  to  be  an  Irish  officer  was 
in  fact  a  spy,  and  that  he  had  severely  reprimanded 
Colonel  Hanau  for  his  refusal  to  delay  the  execution  until 
the  fact  had  been  explained  to  him.  Far  from  feeling  in 


ORANGE  AND  QREEN.  377 

any  way  aggrieved  that  General  Hamilton  had  interfered 
to  prevent  such  a  mistake  from  taking  place,  he  felt  much 
obliged  to  him  for  what  he  had  done,  as  the  execution  of 
an  Irish  officer  taken  in  war  would  in  every  way  have 
been  a  most  unfortunate  circumstance. 

General  Hamilton  showed  the  letter  to  the  colonels  of 
the  various  regiments  in  the  division,  and  these  agreed 
that  as  General  Ginckle  was  evidently  desirous  that  the 
matter  should  go  no  further  it  would  be  as  well  to  order 
the  tents  to  be  again  pitched,  and  for  the  troops  to  re- 
sume their  ordinary  duties. 

"My  dear  Walter,"  Colonel  L'Estrange  said,  "I  am 
happy  indeed  that  we  came  up  when  we  did.  What 
should  I  have  felt  if  I  had  afterward  learned  that  you, 
who  had  saved  my  life,  had  been  murdered  here,  for  your 
execution  would  have  been  neither  more  nor  less  than 
murder,  as  was  that  of  the  twelve  poor  fellows  who  were 
taken  at  Kilcowan — a  brutal  murder!  They  were  per- 
fectly justified  in  defending  their  property,  and  the  idea 
of  quartering  them  as  well  as  hanging  them,  just  as  if 
they  were  traitors  of  the  worst  dye,  is  nothing  short  of 
monstrous. 

"I  only  came  out  here  with  my  regiment  a  month 
since,  but  I  am  heartily  sick  with  what  I  see  going  on. 
It  was  terrible  to  see  the  ruined  villages  on  the  road  from 
Dublin.  I  have  seen  fighting  on  the  Continent,  but 
nothing  to  equal  the  wholesale  brutality  with  which  the 
war  is  conducted  here.  How  God  can  continue  to  give 
success  to  an  army  which  behaves  as  this  one  has  done  is 
altogether  beyond  me.  Of  one  thing  I  am  resolved, 
whether  we  take  Limerick  or  not — and  I  own  I  see  but 
small  chance  of  it — I  shall  exchange,  if  possible,  into  a 
regiment  serving  in  Flanders;  if  not,  I  shall  resign  my 
commission.  And  now  how  is  your  father?  I  rode  out 
from  Dublin  to  see  your  mother,  and  wag  very  glad  to 


278  ORANGE  AND  OREEN. 

find  her  and  old  Mrs.  Davenant  well.  I  was  glad  too  to 
find  that  owing  to  the  influence  of  Mr.  Conyers  they  had 
not  been  troubled,  and  I  was  fortunately  able  myself  to 
bring  some  influence  to  bear  upon  the  council,  who  seem 
to  be  bent  upon  squeezing  the  last  drop  of  blood  from 
the  Irish  veins.  But  the  men  are  falling  in,  and  I  must 
put  myself  at  the  head  of  the  regiment.  I  will  hand  you 
over  to  the  care  of  an  officer,  and  if  we  march  out  you 
will,  of  course,  go  with  us." 

When  the  men  were  again  dismissed  Colonel 
L'Estrange  rejoined  Walter. 

"Ginckle  has  thought  better  of  it,"  he  said.  "I 
fancied  he  would  not  venture  to  push  matters  further, 
for  the  loss  of  the  one  division  he  can  really  rely  upon 
would  be  fatal  to  all  his  hope  of  success  to  the  campaign. 
Ginckle  is  a  passionate  man,  but  he  is  not  a  fool,  and  he 
must  have  seen  that  if  the  matter  had  been  laid  before 
the  king  his  conduct  would  not  have  been  approved.  I 
don't  say  that  ours  is  right  in  a  military  sense,  but  I  am 
sure  that  public  opinion  would  have  approved  of  it.  The 
tales  that  have  been  circulated  of  the  doings  of  the  army 
over  here  since  the  commencement  of  the  war  have  already 
roused  a  very  strong  feeling  of  irritation  thoroughout  the 
country." 

Colonel  L'Estrange  now  took  Walter  to  General  Ham- 
ilton's tent,  and  after  formally  introducing  him  he  told 
the  story  of  the  wreck  and  of  his  rescue  by  Walter  from 
certain  death. 

"What  do  you  mean  to  do  with  him,  L'Estrange?" 
General  Hamilton  asked. 

"My  intention  is,  unless  you  see  any  objection  to  it,  to 
pass  him  through  the  lines  this  evening.  I  will  provide 
him  with  a  good  horse  and  see  him  well  away.  After 
what  has  happened  Ginckle  will,  I  should  say,  feel 
obliged  for  our  thus  rendering  him  a  service  by  get- 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  279 

ting  rid  of  his  prisoner.  There  are  not  likely  to  be  any 
questions  asked  or  remarks  made  afterward.  I  am  not 
without  influence  at  court,  and  there  is  a  very  strong 
section  who  are  bitterly  opposed  to  Dutchmen  being 
placed  in  every  post  in  the  king's  gift,  and  there  would 
be  no  difficulty  in  getting  up  such  a  hostile  feeling 
against  Ginckle  in  relation  to  this  affair  that  it  would 
cost  him  his  command." 

"Yes,"  the  general  agreed;  "Marlborough  would  be 
only  too  glad  to  take  the  matter  up,  and  as  Ginckle  must 
be  pretty  well  aware  that  his  want  of  success  here  must 
have  already  made  his  position  precarious,  I  do  not  think 
he  will  trouble  himself  to  ask  any  questions  about  the 
prisoner;  and  certainly  William  will  not  thank  him  for 
being  the  means  by  his  unjust  and  arbitrary  conduct  of 
causing  a  split  between  the  English  and  his  foreign 
troops.  I  should  like  to  put  all  their  heads  into  one 
noose,  and  I  should  feel  no  compunction  in  setting  them 
swinging,  for  a  greater  set  of  rascals  were  never  collected 
under  the  sun.  I  must  say  that  the  contrast  between  our 
army  and  the  Irish  is  very  great,  and  that  although  many 
bloody  deeds  are  performed  by  the  Eapparees  there  has 
never  been  a  single  complaint  brought  against  the  Irish 
troops.  Anyhow,  Mr.  Davenant,  I  think  you  cannot  do 
better  than  fall  in  with  Colonel  L' Estranged  plan. 
There  will  be  no  difficulty  in  getting  out,  and  indeed  I 
will  send  a  troop  of  cavalry  to  see  you  well  beyond  our 
lines." 

Walter  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  with  Colonel 
L'Estrange,  and  told  him  all  that  had  taken  place  since 
they  had  last  met. 

"It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  it  is  but  three  years 
ago,"  he  said  when  he  had  finished. 

"No,  we  judge  the  flight  of  time  by  the  incidents  we 
crowd  into  it.  The  most  uneventful  days  pass  the  most 


280  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

unheeded.  Now  to  me  it  seems  but  yesterday  that  I 
stood  on  the  deck  of  the  ship  and  knew  that  she  was  sure 
to  go  to  pieces,  and  that  the  chance  of  any  one  reaching 
that  rocky  coast  alive  were  small  indeed,  when  I  saw 
what  seemed  little  more  than  a  black  speck  approaching, 
and  you  and  your  fisher  boy  made  your  way  over  the 
wave.  By  the  way,  how  is  he?  Doing  well,  I  hope?" 

"He  might  have  done  well  if  he  liked.  The  present 
that  you  left  in  my  father's  hands  to  buy  him  a  boat 
when  he  was  old  enough  to  start  as  a  fisherman  on  his 
own  account  would  have  made  a  man  of  him,  but  it  is 
hidden  somewhere  in  the  thatch  of  his  father's  cottage. 
When  my  father  first  went  to  the  war  he  handed  it  over 
to  Larry,  as  he  could  not  say  what  might  happen  before 
his  return.  Larry  was  at  first  delighted  with  the  thought 
that  some  day  he  should  have  a  boat  of  his  own,  and  a 
boat  too  larger  than  any  on  the  shore;  but  when  I  ac- 
companied my  father  Larry  insisted  on  going  with  me. 
'It  will  be  time  enough  to  buy  a  boat  when  the  war  is 
over,'  he  said;  and  as  I  was  very  glad  to  have  him  with 
me,  and  my  father  did  not  object,  Larry  had  his  way, 
and  he  has  been  with  me  ever  since.  He  is  enrolled  in 
the  troop  now,  and  when  he  thinks  there  is  any  chance 
of  fighting  he  takes  his  place  in  the  ranks,  but  at  other 
times  he  acts  as  my  servant." 

"Tell  him  I  have  not  forgotten  him,"  Colonel 
L'Estrange  said.  "While  you  have  been  doing  so  much 
I  have  had  a  quiet  time  of  it.  I  could  have  got  a  regi- 
ment at  once  had  I  cared  for  it,  but  I  disliked  the 
thought  of  fighting  over  here,  it  was  too  much  like  civil 
war.  Six  months  ago,  when  things  were  going  badly 
with  us  on  the  Continent,  I  asked  to  be  employed,  and 
was  given  a  regiment  they  were  just  raising.  I  had  got 
them  into  fair  order  and  was  expecting  to  be  ordered  to 
embark  for  the  Low  Country  at  any  moment,  when  the 


ORANGE  AND  QREBN.  281 

news  came  of  Ginckle's  heavy  losses  at  Athlone  and 
Aughrim,  and  the  orders  came  for  us  to  proceed  to  Bris- 
tol and  take  ship  there  for  Ireland.  I  half  thought  of 
throwing  up  my  commission,  for  the  news  of  the  scan- 
dalous conduct  of  the  foreign  soldiers  had  stirred  every 
English  heart  with  disgust  and  indignation,  but  I 
thought  that  the  struggle  was  nearly  over.  William  was 
anxious  for  peace  at  any  price,  and  would  grant  almost 
any  terms  to  secure  it;  and  on  the  other  hand  we  knew 
that  Louis  was  at  last  going  to  make  a  great  effort.  So 
that  it  was  certain  that  either  the  Irish  would  make  peace 
on  fair  terms  before  winter,  or  the  French  would  land 
and  there  would  be  an  end  of  any  prospect  of  conquering 
Ireland  until  matters  were  settled  on  the  Continent  and 
William  could  devote  his  whole  strength  to  this  busi- 
ness." 

"And  which  alternative  do  you  think  the  most  likely?" 
Walter  asked. 

"The  latter,"  Colonel  L'Estrange  said  gravely. 
"Frankly,  Walter,  the  situation  looks  bad.  There  is,  so 
far  as  I  can  see,  no  chance  whatever  of  our  taking  Lime- 
rick, and  in  a  fortnight  ten  thousand  French  troops  will 
be  landed.  Of  course  it  is  probable  that  at  the  last  mo- 
ment the  Irish  may  conclude  that  they  prefer  to  be 
under  England  rather  than  France,  for  that  is  what  it 
comes  to.  I  hope  they  will  have  the  sense  to  choose 
England,  and  if  what  we  hear  be  true  they  can  judge 
from  the  insolent  arrogance  of  the  French  officers  when 
they  are  but  a  fraction  of  your  force,  what  they  would  be 
when  they  regarded  themselves  as  your  masters. 

"William  is  ready  to  grant  religious  equality  and  the 
security  of  persons  and  estates.  I  think  the  Irish  will  be 
very  unwise  to  refuse.  At  the  same  time  they  have  suf- 
fered such  villainous  treatment  at  the  hands  of  William's 
soldiers  that  I  cannot  blame  them  if  they  decide  to 
throw  in  their  lot  with  France." 


S82  ORANGE  AND  GREEN.' 

"I  think,"  Walter  said,  'that  if  they  were  but  sure  that 
all  the  promises  would  be  kept  the  greater  part  would  be 
in  favor  of  making  peace  at  once.  Nine  out  of  ten  of  us 
are  of  English  descent,  and  have  only  been  driven  to 
take  up  arms  by  the  cruel  oppression  which  we  have  suf- 
fered. Why,  at  present  five-sixths  of  the  soil  of  Ireland 
is  in  the  hands  of  Protestants,  our  religion  is  persecuted, 
and  for  years  we  have  been  trampled  on  and  regarded  as 
fair  objects  of  robbery." 

"All  that  you  say  is  true,  Walter,  and  no  one  can  re- 
gret it  more  than  I  do.  Still,  I  do  think  that  you  would 
be  worse  off  under  France  than  under  England.  Louis 
would  drain  the  island  of  its  men  to  fill  his  army.  He 
uses  you  only  as  a  cat's-paw  in  his  struggle  against  Eng- 
land and  Holland,  and  would  not  hesitate  to  turn  you 
over  to  England  again,  did  it  at  any  time  suit  him  to 
make  peace  on  such  terms  or  to  offer  Ireland  as  an  ex- 
change for  some  piece  of  territory  he  coveted  beyond  his 
frontier." 

"I  know  my  father  is  very  much  of  your  opinion," 
Walter  said,  "and  that  he  has  no  confidence  whatever  in 
the  King  of  France,  and  considers  that  French  interfer- 
ence is  responsible  for  the  want  of  success  which  has  at- 
tended us.  At  any  rate  there  is  scarcely  one  of  us  who 
does  not  hate  the  French,  and  certainly  if  we  had  to 
choose  between  the  two  countries,  we  should  choose 
England." 

When  it  became  dark  a  troop  of  cavalry  mounted,  and 
with  Colonel  L'Estrange  and  Walter  in  their  midst  rode 
out  of  camp.  They  went  for  several  miles  and  then, 
Colonel  L'Estrange  said: 

"We  are  now  well  outside  the  limit  where  you  will  be 
likely  to  meet  any  of  our  scouting  parties.  Two  miles 
further  along  this  road  you  will  come  to  the  village  of 
Mulroon.  It  has,  like  all  the  others,  suffered  heavily, 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  283 

but  there  are  two  or  three  houses  still  standing,  and 
-when  I  rode  through  it  a  few  days  since  I  saw  an  old  man 
standing  at  the  door  of  one  of  them,  so  you  will  be  likely 
to  get  information  as  to  the  best  road  to  the  town,  and 
perhaps  a  guide." 

"Thank  you  very  heartily,  Colonel  L'Estrange.  I 
know  the  village,  for  I  rode  through  it  only  the  day  be- 
fore I  was  captured,  and  if  I  can  get  no  guide  I  can  make 
my  own  way  round  as  soon  as  it  is  daylight." 

"You  had  better  go  on  to-night  if  you  can,  Walter. 
Some  party  of  rascally  plunderers  might  arrive  here,  or 
Ginckle  may,  for  aught  I  know,  have  sent  out  parties  of 
dragoons.  At  any  rate  I  would  not  stop  here,  but  make 
your  way  on  among  the  hills  even  if  you  can  only  get  a 
mile  away  and  have  to  sleep  by  the  side  of  your  horse. 
No  one  can  say  he  is  safe  under  a  roof  within  twenty 
miles  of  Ginckle's  army." 

There  was  a  hearty  leave-taking  between  Colonel 
L'Estrange  and  Walter,  and  the  latter  then  rode  straight 
forward,  while  the  troop  faced  about  and  made  their  way 
back  to  camp. 

On  arriving  at  the  village,  Walter,  as  soon  as  he  suc- 
ceeded in  convincing  the  inhabitants  of  a  cottage  in  which 
he  saw  a  light  that  he  was  an  Irish  officer,  found  no  dif- 
ficulty in  obtaining  a  guide,  a  boy^of  fourteen  volunteer- 
ing at  once  to  conduct  him  to  the  ford  ten  miles  above 
Limerick.  It  was  nearly  twenty  miles  by  the  by-roads 
by  which  they  traveled,  and  the  morning  was  just  break- 
ing as  they  arrived  there.  Colonel  L'Estrange  had  in- 
sisted on  providing  Walter  with  funds,  and  he  was  there- 
fore able  to  reward  his  guide,  who  went  his  way  rejoicing, 
while  Walter  crossed  the  river  and  rode  for  the  cavalry 
camp,  where  he  was  received  with  delight  by  his  father 
and  friends,  who  had  believed  him  to  have  been  killed  in 
the  skirmish,  for  such  was  the  report  of  the  troopers  who 
had  managed  to  make  their  escape. 


284  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

"I  must  not  let  you  go  on  any  more  detached  com- 
mands, Walter,"  his  father  said.  "I  do  not  say  that  you 
have  been  imprudent  or  to  blame;  but  this  is  the  second 
time  that  you  have  been  surprised  by  the  enemy,  and  as 
it  is  out  of  the  question  to  expect  that  you  can  always 
have  the  good  luck  to  get  out  of  their  hands  when  you 
are  captured,  as  you  have  on  the  last  two  occasions,  I 
shall  keep  you  by  me  in  future,  for  seriously,  my  boy, 
your  absence  has  caused  me  terrible  anxiety." 

When  Walter's  account  of  the  barbarous  sentence 
passed  upon  the  peasants,  whose  only  crime  was  that  they 
had  defended  their  property  against  marauders  acting  in 
defiance  of  the  general's  order,  was  known  in  camp,  the 
most  intense  indignation  prevailed,  and  this  was  height- 
ened by  the  fact  that  a  cavalry  officer  taken  in  open  fight 
should  have  been  sentenced  to  a  similar  fate.  So  great, 
indeed,  was  the  fury  of  both  officers  and  men  that  had 
they  been  in  any  condition  to  take  the  field,  nothing 
could  have  restrained  them  from  mounting  and  riding  at 
once  to  strike  a  blow  in  revenge  for  the  murder  and 
mutilation  of  the  peasants. 


QBANGE  AND  GREEN.  385 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

PEACE. 

GINCKLE'S  expedition  across  the  Shannon  and  his  sur- 
prise of  the  Irish  cavalry  camp,  successful  as  it  had  been, 
altered  the  position  in  no  way.  Several  days  passed,  and 
then  after  a  council  of  war  it  was  determined  to  recross 
the  bridge  of  boats,  which  remained  undisturbed,  to  the 
Clare  side,  and  try  to  force  a  way  across  Thomond 
Bridge.  On  the  22d  of  September  all  the  cavalry  of  the 
army,  ten  regiments  of  infantry,  and  fourteen  pieces  of 
cannon  made  the  passage  without  molestation  and 
marched  toward  the  bridge,  which  was  defended  upon 
the  Clare  side  by  two  strong  towers.  As  the  British  ad- 
vanced guard  of  infantry  approached  the  bridge  it  was 
charged  by  a  body  of  Irish  horse,  broken,  and  driven  back. 

A  strong  body  of  cavalry  rode  up  to  support  the  in- 
fantry; the  Irish  horse  were  reinforced,  and  a  hot  fight 
continued  until,  at  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
the  whole  force  of  British  infantry  came  up,  and  the  Irish 
retired  upon  the  infantry  posted  in  the  works  which  cov- 
ered the  bridge.  Near  the  gate  were  high  grounds  cut 
up  by  gravel-pits.  The  Irish  infantry  were  posted  here 
as  well  as  in  the  forts,  and  the  English  as  they  advanced 
were  assailed  with  a  very  heavy  fire  from  these  positions, 
and  also  from  the  guns  on  the  town  walls. 

In  spite  of  the  heavy  loss  they  were  suffering  the  Eng- 
lish pressed  on  with  the  greatest  gallantry.  Success  was 
now  almost  a  necessity,  for,  if  defeated,  but  few  of  them 


286  ORANGE  AND  OEEEN. 

would  ever  have  been  able  to  recross  the  river.  Foot  by 
foot  they  fought  their  way,  pressed  on  past  the  outworks, 
and  pushed  back  the  Irish  infantry  till  the  latter  were 
gathered  round  the  head  of  the  bridge. 

The  Irish  generals  had  thought  that  Ginckle's  move- 
ment was  but  a  repetition  of  the  previous  raid,  and  the 
force  that  had  been  sent  over  to  guard  the  head  of  the 
bridge  was  altogether  insufficient  to  withstand  the  deter- 
mined attack  by  Ginckle's  force.  Reinforcements  were 
now  sent  across  the  bridge,  but  this  only  added  to  the 
confusion.  Pressed  back  by  the  weight  and  power  of  the 
English  attack,  the  Irish  were  beginning  to  retire  across 
the  bridge  when  they  met  the  reinforcements  making 
their  way  over. 

The  bridge  was  of  great  length  but  extremely  narrow, 
and  a  complete  block  took  place.  The  English  had 
pierced  their  way  through  the  struggling  mass  at  the 
head  of  the  bridge  and  pressed  on  the  rear  of  the  mass  of 
fugitives,  literally  hewing  their  way  through  them,  and 
the  pressure  became  so  great  that  the  regiments  crossing 
were  carried  back.  The  head  of  the  British  column  was 
pushed  forward  by  those  behind,  and  could  only  advance 
by  slaying  those  in  front  of  them  and  throwing  their 
bodies  over  the  bridge;  for  the  mass  were  wedged  so 
tightly  that  movement  had  now  become  impossible,  while 
the  Irish  as  they  retreated  formed  ramparts  of  the  slain 
and  impeded  the  advance  of  the  enemy. 

While  the  struggle  on  the  bridge  was  at  its  fiercest  the 
French  officer  who  commanded  at  the  drawbridge  across 
the  arch  nearest  to  the  city,  fearing  that  the  British 
would  press  in  at  the  rear  of  the  Irish,  and  that  he  might 
not  then  be  able  to  raise  the  drawbridge,  ordered  this  to 
be  done  at  once — thereby  cutting  off  the  retreat  of  the 
soldiers  still  on  the  bridge.  These  jumped  over  the 
parapet  into  the  river  and  strove  to  reach  the  city  wall  by 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  28? 

swimming.  Some  did  so,  but  great  numbers  were 
drowned.  This  incident  greatly  increased  the  standing 
feud  between  the  Irish  and  French,  the  former  declaring 
that  the  latter  not  only  never  fought  themselves,  but 
were  ready  at  the  first  alarm  to  sacrifice  their  allies  in 
order  to  secure  their  own  safety. 

The  success  of  Ginckle's  second  raid  had  been  complete 
in  so  far  that  he  had  inflicted  great  slaughter  upon  the 
Irish  infantry  and  had  gained  a  moral  victory;  but  he 
was  no  nearer  capturing  the  town.  An  attack  across  the 
long  narrow  bridge  was  not  even  to  be  thought  of;  and 
he  again  retired  across  the  river.  The  Irish  were  dis- 
heartened. Sarsfield,  though  a  dashing  cavalry  com- 
mander, appeared  wholly  incapable  of  handling  large 
bodies  of  men.  Ginckle  had  twice  given  him  a  great  op- 
portunity, but  on  neither  occasion  had  he  made  the 
slightest  effort  to  utilize  it. 

On  the  first  occasion  surprise  and  uncertainty  might 
excuse  inaction  on  the  part  of  the  army  in  Limerick,  but 
there  was  no  such  excuse  the  second  time.  Their  force 
outside  the  town  gate  was  but  a  small  one;  it  was  certain 
that  the  English  could  not  push  across  the  bridge;  and 
as  Ginckle  had  taken  the  best  part  of  his  army  across, 
Sarsfield  could  have  issued  out  with  his  whole  force  on 
the  Limerick  side,  crushed  the  British  force  remaining 
there,  and  captured  the  camp  and  all  its  stores — in  which 
case  Ginckle's  position  would  have  been  desperate.  But 
not  a  movement  was  made  to  seize  an  opportunity  which 
would  have  been  patent  to  any  military  commander  pos- 
sessing genius  and  energy;  nor  until  it  was  too  late  was 
any  attempt  made  to  reinforce  the  detachment  which,  on 
the  other  side  of  the  bridge,  was  withstanding  the  attack 
of  a  vastly  superior  force. 

Ginckle,  relying  upon  the  moral  effect  of  the  blow  he 
had  just  struck,  renewed  his  negotiations.  Some  of  the 


888  ORANGB  AND  GREBN. 

Irish  leaders  had  already  received  bribes;  others  were 
genuinely  anxious  that  the  war  should  cease  now  that 
William  was  ready  to  grant  terms  which  would  secure  the 
ends  for  which  they  had  been  fighting;  others,  again, 
were  animated  by  hostility  to  the  French,  and  the  fear 
that  if  the  expected  reinforcements  arrived  and  the  Eng- 
lish were  driven  out,  Ireland  would  become  a  mere 
appanage  of  France. 

Sarsfield  himself  was  no  doubt  swayed  by  his  dislike  at 
being  again  superseded  in  the  command  by  the  arrival  of 
another  French  general.  He  was,  too,  influenced  by  the 
fear  that  the  peace  party  might  prevail,  and  that  Clif- 
ford's act  of  treachery  might  be  repeated,  and  the  enemy 
be  admitted  into  the  city  without  any  terms  being 
arranged. 

The  French  officers,  eager  to  return  home,  made  no 
attempt  to  stem  the  course  of  events;  and  on  the  evening 
of  the  day  after  the  battle  on  the  Clare  side  the  drums  of 
the  besieged  beat  a  parley,  and  Generals  Sarsfield  and 
Waughup  went  out  and  had  a  conference  with  Ginckle. 
A  cessation  of  arms  was  concluded  for  the  night;  and  in 
the  morning  the  truce  was  extended  for  three  days  to 
allow  the  cavalry,  who  were  now  encamped  near  Ennis, 
to  be  communicated  with. 

On  the  25th  the  principal  noblemen  and  officers  from 
the  cavalry  camp  arrived,  prisoners  were  exchanged,  and 
hostages  on  both  sides  were  given,  until  the  terms  of  a 
treaty  of  peace  could  be  adjusted.  On  the  27th  the  Irish 
submitted  their  proposals  to  the  English  general,  which 
were — that  "all  past  offenses  should  be  pardoned;  that 
the  Catholics  of  the  counties  of  Cork,  Limerick,  Kerry, 
Clare,  Sligo,  and  Mayo  be  restored  to  the  estates  which 
they  held  previous  to  the  war;  freedom  of  worship  to  be 
allowed;  Catholics  to  be  capable  of  holding  all  employ- 
ments, civil  and  military;  the  Irish  army  to  be  kept  on 


ORANGB  AND  QRBE1T.  288 

foot,  and  those  who  were  willing  to  serve  to  be  received 
into  the  king's  service;  Catholics  to  be  at  liberty  to  re- 
side in  all  cities  and  towns,  and  to  have  all  rights  of 
citizens;  and  that  an  act  of  parliament  should  be  passed 
to  confirm  these  conditions." 

These  terms  were  agreed  to,  and  were  held  to  be  appli- 
cable not  only  to  the  garrison  of  Limerick  but  to  the 
whole  of  Ireland.  Ginckle  at  once  sent  an  express  to 
Cork  to  order  the  transports  in  that  harbor  to  sail  round 
to  the  Shannon  for  the  purpose  of  taking  on  board  such 
part  of  the  Irish  army  as  might  wish  to  be  carried  to 
France — this  being  one  of  the  stipulations  of  the  treaty. 

Sarsfield  and  most  of  his  officers  and  the  priests  used 
their  utmost  efforts  to  persuade  the  soldiers  to  enter  the 
French  service  in  preference  to  the  English.  Their  ex- 
hortations were  successful.  Only  about  two  thousand 
Irish  joined  the  British  army,  four  thousand  laid  down 
their  arms  and  returned  to  their  homes,  and  a  consider- 
able number  deserted  on  their  march  down  to  Cork. 
The  rest  were  shipped  in  transports  to  France,  where 
they  entered  the  service  of  that  country. 

Two  days  after  the  treaty  was  signed  the  French  fleet, 
with  ten  thousand  men  and  a  great  abundance  of  stores, 
arrived  at  the  mouth  of  the  Shannon. 

The  Irish  negotiators  of  the  treaty  have  been  greatly 
and  deservedly  blamed,  inasmuch  as  while  they  stipulated 
that  the  proprietors  of  the  neighboring  counties  should 
retain  their  estates,  they  abandoned  those  possessing 
property  throughout  the  rest  of  Ireland  to  ruin  and  beg- 
gary. There  was  no  excuse  for  this.  They  knew  that 
the  French  fleet  had  sailed  and  must  have  arrived  in  a 
few  days,  and  that  the  English  cause  was  becoming  so 
desperate  that  Ginckle  would  not  have  resisted  any  terms 
they  had  laid  down. 

This  cruel  and  wholly  unnecessary  desertion  of  their 


390  'ORANGE  AND  QREEN. 

friends  has  thrown  a  slur  upon  the  memory  of  Sarsfield 
and  the  other  leaders  who  conducted  the  negotiations. 

The  officers  and  men  who  entered  the  service  of  France 
had  bitter  reason  to  repent  their  decision.  Instead  of  be- 
ing, as  they  expected,  kept  together  in  regiments,  they 
were  for  the  most  part  broken  up  and  distributed 
throughout  the  French  army.  Louis  was  deeply  enraged 
at  the  surrender  just  as  the  expedition  he  had  made  such 
efforts  to  send  for  the  conquest  of  Ireland  was  within  a 
few  hours'  sail  of  its  shores,  and  he  treated  the  whole  of 
the  Irish  and  French  who  returned  from  Ireland  as  men 
who  had  acted  the  part  of  traitors. 

As  soon  as  the  terms  of  capitulation  were  arranged, 
Captain  Davenant  obtained  papers  of  protection  for  all 
the  men  of  his  troop.  He  had  formed  them  up  on 
parade,  and  had  put  the  question  whether  they  wished  to 
return  home  or  to  enter  the  service  of  France. 

"I  myself  and  your  officers  intend  to  return  home,"  he 
said.  "Of  course  each  of  you  is  free  to  do  as  he  chooses; 
but  it  appears  to  me  a  most  foolish  thing  to  leave  your 
country  forever,  and  exile  yourself  in  the  service  of 
France,  when  you  are  free  to  return  home.  You  know 
how  little  French  promises  have  been  kept  during  this 
war,  and  how  little  faith  is  to  be  placed  on  them  in 
future." 

The  men  were  unanimous  in  their  decision  to  return  to 
their  homes,  and  as  soon  as  the  protection  papers  were 
obtained  the  troop  disbanded,  and  all  returned  to  their 
homes  and  occupations  in  and  around  Bray. 

It  was  a  joyful  meeting  when  Captain  Davenant  and 
Walter  returned  to  the  castle.  Mrs.  Davenant  had  al- 
ways shared  her  husband's  opinion  that  the  chances  of 
ultimate  success  were  small,  and  of  late  even  his  mother 
had  given  up  hope,  and  both  were  delighted  that  their 
anxieties  were  at  last  over,  and  husband  and  son  restored 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  291 

to  them  in  safety.  There  was  an  immense  deal  to  tell  on 
both  sides,  for  it  was  months  since  any  letter  had  passed 
between  them. 

"We  have  everything  to  be  thankful  for,"  Mrs. 
Davenant  said  when  the  stories  on  both  sides  had  been, 
told,  "and  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is  to  no  slight  extent 
due  to  Walter  that  we  have  passed  so  well  through  the 
last  two  troubled  years.  It  was  Jabez  Whitefoot  who 
first  stood  our  friend,  and  who  saved  the  castle  from  be- 
ing burned,  and  his  good-will  was  earned  by  Walter's 
friendship  with  his  son.  Then  Mr.  Conyers  stood  be- 
tween us  and  the  council,  who  would  certainly  have  con- 
fiscated everything  had  it  not  been  for  him.  And  al- 
though he  always  expressed  himself  as  greatly  indebted 
to  you  also,  he  said  that,  so  far  as  he  understood  from 
his  wife,  it  was  to  Walter's  foresight  and  arrangement 
that  his  wife  and  daughter  owed  their  rescue.  How  was 
it  that  Walter  was  so  forward  in  the  matter,  Fergus?" 

"Walter  was  perhaps  more  particularly  interested  in 
the  matter  than  I  was,"  Captain  Davenant  said  with  a 
smile.  "His  thoughts  were  running  in  that  direction." 

Walter  colored  up,  and  Mrs.  Davenant,  who  was  look- 
ing at  him  with  some  surprise  at  her  husband's  words, 
broke  into  a  laugh. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say,  Walter,  that  you  have  been 
falling  in  love  at  your  age?'"' 

"You  forget,  dear,"  Captain  Davenant  said,  coming  to 
Walter's  rescue,  "that  Walter  is  no  longer  a  boy.  Three 
years  of  campaigning  have  made  a  man  of  him,  and  I 
venture  to  think  an  earnest  and  thoughtful  one.  He  is, 
it  is  true,  only  nineteen,  but  he  has  seen  as  much  and 
gone  through  as  much  as  men  double  his  age.  He  has 
upon  several  occasions  evinced  an  amount  of  coolness 
and  judgment  in  danger  which  has  earned  him  the 


892  ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 

approbation  even  of  General  Sarsfield  a  man  not  easily 
satisfied." 

"I  don't  mean  to  hurt  your  feelings,  Walter,"  Mrs. 
Davenant  said;  "but  of  course  it  is  difficult  for  me  at 
first  to  realize  that  while  you  have  been  away  you  have 
changed  from  a  boy  into  a  man." 

"I  don't  mind,  mother  dear,"  Walter  said,  "and  you 
can  laugh  at  me  as  much  as  you  like." 

"And  is  there  anything  in  what  your  father  says?" 
Mrs.  Davenant  asked,  as  she  passed  her  hand  fondly  over 
Walter's  head  as  he  sat  on  a  low  stool  beside  her. 

"Yes,  mother,"  he  answered  manfully.  "I  am  en- 
gaged to  Claire  Conyers.  I  have  her  mother's  consent, 
but  what  Mr.  Conyers  will  think  about  it  I  don't  know. 
He  must  know  long  before  this,  for  Mrs.  Conyers  said 
that  she  should  tell  him  as  soon  as  he  joined  them  in 
England." 

Mrs.  Davenant  leaned  over  and  kissed  her  son. 

"The  Conyers  are  of  good  family,"  old  Mrs.  Davenant 
said,  "although  they  did  come  over  with  Cromwell.  I 
do  not  think  that  is  any  objection  to  a  son  of  our  house 
marrying  into  theirs." 

Captain  Davenant  laughed. 

"No  objection  at  all  on  our  side,  mother.  Any  objec- 
tion is  likely  to  be  on  the  other  side,  not  on  the  ground 
of  family,  but  on  that  of  property.  Claire  Conyers  is 
one  of  the  richest  heiresses  in  Ireland,  while  Walter's 
inheritance  can  scarcely  be  termed  extensive." 

Two  months  later  Captain  Davenant  received  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Conyers  saying  that  he  had  arrived  with  his 
wife  and  daughter  at  Dublin  on  the  previous  day,  and 
should  be  glad  to  make  his  acquaintance  and  that  of  his 
son.  "My  wife,"  he  said,  "has  informed  me  of  certain 
love  passages  which  have  taken  place  between  Claire  and 


ORANGE  AfTD  GREEN.  293 

your  son,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  talk  to  you  concerning 
them." 

Captain  Davenant  and  Walter  at  once  rode  over  to 
Dublin,  the  latter  full  of  delight,  and  yet  with  a  consid- 
erable amount  of  trepidation  as  to  the  interview  between 
his  [father  and  Mr.  Conyers  His  mind  was,  however, 
speedily  put  at  rest,  for  upon  entering  Mr.  Conyers  at 
once  took  him  by  the  hand  and  said: 

"I  am  glad,  indeed,  of  the  opportunity  of  thanking 
you  in  person  for  the  inestimable  service  you  rendered  to 
my  wife  and  daughter.  I  find  from  my  wife  that  Claire 
has  discovered  a  means  of  repaying  you  for  your  service, 
and  as  her  happiness  is,  she  tells  me,  dependent  on  my 
giving  my  consent  to  the  plan,  I  tell  you  at  once  that  I 
do  so  very  heartily.  I  think  you  had  better  wait  for 
awhile,  say  two  or  three  years,  but  we  need  not  settle 
that  at  present.  Come  here,  Claire  "  He  placed  the 
girFs  hand  in  Walter's.  "Take  her/'  he  said,  "and  make 
her  happy." 

The  next  day  Mr.  Conyers,  with  his  wife  and  daughter, 
accompanied  Captain  Davenant  and  Walter  back  to 
Davenant  Castle,  where  they  stayed  for  some  days. 

The  Whitefoots  did  not  long  remain  neighbors  of  the 
Davenants.  Old  Zephaniah  had  passed  away  ere  the 
peace  was  signed,  and  soon  after  Captain  Davenant  re- 
turned Jabez  called  at  the  castle. 

"We  are  going  away/'  he  said.  "John  has  made  up  his 
mind  to  become  a  trader  in  London,  and  Hannah  and  I 
would  be  lonely  without  him,  and  moreover  we  are  both 
weary  of  our  life  here,  and  have  far  more  than  enough 
money  laid  by  for  our  needs,  and  for  giving  John  the 
means  of  entering  some  well-established  firm  when  the 
time  shall  come.  As  to  the  lands  here,  they  are  ours  now; 
but  the  next  turn  of  the  wheel  might  give  them  back  to 
you.  Besides  we  do  not  wish  to  be  troubled  with  their 


294:  OltANGE  AND  QREEN. 

care.  I  therefore  intend  to  revert  to  the  offer  which  you 
made  me  when  the  Parliament  restored  the  land  to  you.  I 
have  received  a  good  offer  for  our  house  and  farm,  and 
this  I  have  accepted.  The  rest  of  the  estates  I  hand  back 
to  you,  from  whom  they  were  taken  by  the  sword.  My 
wife  wishes  this  as  well  as  myself.  John  is  eager  that  it 
should  be  BO.  He  will  be  glad  that  his  friend  should  be 
heir  to  the  estates  of  his  ancestors/' 

"But  we  could  not  accept  such  a  generous  offer,"  Cap- 
tain Davenant  exclaimed.  "It  is  out  of  all  reason." 

"That  I  know  not,  friend  Davenant;  but  I  know  that  I 
and  my  wife  and  John  have  so  made  up  our  minds,  and 
we  are  of  a  race  not  given  to  change.  The  land  would 
be  an  incumbrance  and  a  trouble  to  us.  John  would  far 
rather  make  his  path  in  life  as  he  chooses  it  than  live 
upon  the  rents  of  ill-gotten  lands.  You  will  receive  your 
own  again,  and  all  parties  will  be  satisfied." 

Nothing  could  alter  the  resolution  Jabez  and  his  wife 
and  son  had  taken,  and  so  the  Davenant  estates  came 
back  to  their  former  possessors. 

Three  years  after  the  conclusion  of  peace  Walter  be- 
came Claire  Conyers'  husband,  and  in  time  succeeded  to 
the  wide  estates  of  Mr.  Conyers  as  well  as  those  of  the 
Davenants.  Godfrey  Davenant,  on  attaining  the  age  of 
eighteen,  obtained  through  Colonel  L'Estrange's  interest 
a  commission  in  the  English  army,  fought  under  Marl- 
borough  in  the  fierce  campaign  in  Flanders,  and  fell  at 
the  battle  of  Oudenarde.  Happily,  during  the  lifetime 
of  Walter  and  Claire  Davenant  there  was  never  any  re- 
newal of  trouble  in  Ireland,  and  they  lived  to  see  their 
children  and  grandchildren  grow  up  around  them  in 
peace  and  happiness. 

John  Whitefoot  became  in  time  one  of  the  leading  mer- 
chants of  the  city  of  London,  and  spent  the  greater  part 
of  the  fortune  he  gained  in  trade  in  works  of  charity  and 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN.  295 

kindness.  The  friendship  between  him  and  Walter 
Davenant  remained  unchanged  to  the  end  of  their  lives. 
They  occasionally  paid  each  other  visits,  and  when  a  son 
of  John  Whitefoot  married  a  daughter  of  Walter  Daven- 
ant, they  felt  that  this  was  a  fitting  termination  of  the 
©Id  feud  between  the  families. 


A     000135432     3 


